Until We Reach Valinor
by Stoneage Woman
Summary: Sequel to A Teacher's Duty. Thranduil's decision to sail forces Legolas to become King. There's just one problem: the law requires him to marry first. A story about love, relationships,loss...and life. No slash.
1. Prologue

Title: Until We Reach Valinor

Chapter 1: Prologue

NOTE: This story is sequel to "A Teacher's Duty" and you'll have to read that one first to understand this one.

SPECIAL THANKS: to Orlando's Sweetheart for helping me pick the name of the woman, and the title to this story. Help is much appreciated, thanks a lot.

That said, I'll let you read in peace.

…

"You sent for me, father?" Legolas stood at the entrance of Thranduil's bedchamber, looking at his father inquiringly.

"Yes, Legolas, I have something to ask of you," Thranduil motioned for him to sit down on a chair.

He complied to this somewhat apprehensively; the last time his father had asked something of him it had turned his _world_ upside down.

"What is it, ada?"

"I went to see Ivana last week."

"Yes, you told me you were going," Legolas said, immediately on his guard.

"Yes, I saw her, and what I saw worried me." He looked closely at his son, saying, "That does mean something to you, doesn't it Legolas?"

"_Ada_," Legolas said, hurt that his father was even asking, "_Of_ _course_ it does."

"Then why is it that you haven't visited her even _once_ since she left here?" Thranduil asked, unable to keep an accusing note out of his voice.

Legolas winced inwardly. "I told you, _ada_," he said evenly, "I've been busy, teaching the children…" he stopped as he realized how pathetic this oft-used excuse sounded now.

"Not _that_ busy," Thranduil said with a glare, "She was so disappointed when you didn't come. She was sad and pensive the whole evening."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Legolas said, hating himself for the detachment in his voice. But if he didn't sound detached, he would sound guilt-ridden. And that was infinitely worse, even if true. "Maybe I'll come next time," he said.

"Maybe you will, maybe you won't," Thranduil said, deciding to leave it for the moment, "She was upset the entire evening, but the next morning her mood had changed slightly. And not for the better. She was very…_nostalgic_ about her childhood."

"Oh?" Legolas said in an even voice, but his insides were bleeding. _I don't want to hear this._

"Yes. She talked about Gilrain and when we were a family, and then after, when you were a baby…" his voice trailed off as he became lost in memories.

Legolas couldn't say anything. He waited helplessly.

"She misses her family very much," Thranduil said finally, "Not just her mother, but me, and you as well. But most of all you."

Legolas didn't know what to say to that either, so he waited again.

"I think it's time we were a family again."

Legolas looked up, startled, "What?"

"Don't you think she deserves as much? After all the years of misery and heartache she's suffered?"

"Of course I do," Legolas said hurriedly, "But, _ada_, that isn't possible, there's no way-"

"There is a way. I've thought of one, but it will cost you a great deal," he gazed at his son apprehensively. "You're not going to like this, Legolas," he blurted, "You're not going to like this at _all_."

"Ada, if there is anything, _anything_ that I can do to further Ivana's happiness, and yours, then I will do it," Legolas said with conviction.

He _owed_ at least that much to her, after all, he reflected. The guilt which he had felt on the day Ivana had sobbingly left his father, alone and unescorted, had never abated. It was his fault. If he hadn't been born, then she would have been happy and safe. He knew he could not blame himself for merely existing, but his heart would not _listen_ to his reason. Instead it forced him to avoid Ivana like the plague- the main reason why he hadn't been to see her even once, although nigh on six months had passed since she had gone.

"I know you would do anything for Ivana, Legolas," Thranduil said, breaking into his thoughts, "But this will cost you a great deal more than you can imagine. I know you will say no."

"And _I_ know I will say yes," Legolas said, wondering what could possibly cost him so much, "Please, _ada_, tell me of your thoughts. How will you give Ivana her family back?"

"By sailing," Thranduil waited for Legolas to protest, and when he didn't, he said, "If I decide to sail to the Undying Lands, then no one will ask any questions if I whisk her away with me. She can put on a veil again and pretend to be my servant. When we reach, Valinor, of course, she will finally have her family back."

"But, if you sail….." Legolas stopped short, his eyes widening as he considered the implications.

"I know. You will have to be King. And to be King…." Thranduil looked down, unable to finish the sentence.

"I'll have to what, _ada_?" Legolas said, suddenly apprehensive. What could be _worse_ than becoming King and dealing with all _its_ responsibilities?

"I made a law," Thranduil said finally, "I wish I hadn't now, but I thought it made sense at the time. Every King should be able to sail to the West when his soul is hurting too much to heal, and he can only do so if he has an heir to leave the Kingdom to. And to have an heir he has to be married."

"Don't tell me," Legolas said, eyes wide in horror, "Please don't tell me that I have to get married to become King!"

Thranduil bowed his head miserably. "I can't change the law," he said, "Even if I made it."

Legolas felt his world come crashing down. He knew what he had to do; knew that if he had a heart or a conscience to speak of, he would have to give Ivana her chance to be a family again, whatever the cost. And in this case, the cost was his freedom.

He looked up. His father was watching him anxiously. "So we can just forget about the whole idea then?" the latter said abruptly, "You're not going to consent to being _married_ are you?"

"Of course I will consent, _ada_," Legolas said, in a slightly strained voice, "I'd do anything for her, you _know_ that."

"But…" Thranduil protested weakly, but he was unable to keep the joy out of his eyes and voice.

"No buts," Legolas said wearily, "Just give me time until after the children graduate."

Thranduil gasped again, this time _really_ amazed. "But that's only a month a way! Legolas, are you sure-?"

"Of course I'm sure," Legolas said gruffly, although every fiber of his being was protesting at the very _idea_ of wedlock.

"Are you already attached to someone, that you've been hiding from me?" Thranduil asked, slightly hopeful.

"No! No, of course not," Legolas exclaimed, startled, "Can you imagine me being…" his voice trailed off as he realized how that sounded after he had consented to marriage.

"So then, if you have no particular preference, will you choose the bride?"

"No! I'll marry her if every limb in her body is deformed, _ada_, but for heaven's sake do not give _me_ a choice. You decide the woman, and I'll marry her even if she's a ten-headed monster."

"Then perhaps we can try something that has been weighing on my mind for awhile now," Thranduil suggested slowly, pausing before plunging into an explanation, "Your mother had a very good friend, her sister almost. The two were inseparable. When Caladel died, she made me promise that if Alanna died of grief, I would care for her family. The woman, who was a widow, was eight months pregnant at the time, and her health deteriorated rapidly after your mother's death. She died just after giving birth to her daughter, named Alanna after her mother, whom I put in the care of a number of nurses and servants-"

"-and completely forgot about for the next two millennia, right?" Legolas said, in slight irritation. He knew that if his father had given the matter any importance whatsoever, he would have spoken of it at least _once_ to him.

Thranduil lowered his head, crushed, "_Don't_, Legolas," he said, trying and failing to keep emotion out of his voice, "I _am_ ashamed of how I treated your mother, and I _wish_ I could make it better, but I can't. Over the last few years, I have been feeling guilty about Alanna, and how little I have done for her, and after Ivana left, I've been trying to get her suitably matched, because by 'taking care' I assume your mother meant that as well.

"But…" he sighed heavily, "For some reason, every time I bring anyone to meet her, he runs away in five minutes flat. I don't know what the matter is, I've met with her on countless occasions to ask her what she says to them to chase them away, but she won't tell me. Every _single_ time I arrange for her to meet someone, they come to me, all hot and bothered, and beg my pardon, but apparently have no choice than to decline."

"Well _I_ won't decline," Legolas said decidedly. He guessed that his father wanted him to marry Alanna, and made up his mind that even if the woman was a monster in disguise, he would still marry her. His father did _not_ need a guilty conscience when he was sailing off with Ivana to start a new family, and he really didn't care whom he married as long as he didn't have to choose the bride. So if he married her, all their problems would be solved. _Well, except mine_, he thought to himself.

"Legolas," Thranduil said warningly, not at all surprised that his son had guessed his intentions, though amazed at the fact that he had agreed so easily, "Don't say that until you've met her. You don't know what secrets she's got up her sleeve. Don't commit yourself until you know what has scared all her other suitors away."

"How many suitors have there been?" Legolas asked, more out of curiosity than actual concern about the matter.

"Fifty or sixty," Thranduil said, somewhat sheepishly.

"What!" Legolas said, amazed, "Fifty suitors in less than a year! _Ada_, I think she just made up a deep, dark secret to scare them off because she didn't want to insult you by saying she liked none of them!"

"Oh, no," Thrauduil said, shaking his head very decisively, "Oh, no, Alanna is beyond that sort of tact, at least in these matters. She's extremely…_direct_. She told me plainly that tough she's not thrilled about being married off in this way, she too believes that she must honor her mother's wishes, as marriage would certainly have been one of them, and she is as keen to get the process of 'choosing' over with as I am."

"She sounds…quite charming," Legolas said, struggling over the words in such a way that they sounded insulting, to his dismay.

Thranduil began laughing. "Oh, she's going to be _very_ amused by you," he said between chuckles, "Just keep talking like that, and she'll be rolling around the floor, speechless with laughter. And while she's doing so, she'll manage to knock down a glass vase or two as well, for good measure."

"How's that?"

"She's very accident prone."

"Ah," Legolas said, determined to form his opinions _after_ he had met her, and not before, "Fascinating. When do I meet her?"

"Whenever you want to."

"The day after the graduation, then. Hopefully the children will perform well in front of you, and I'll be in a good mood, and therefore won't be _too_ dampened by her deep, dark secret."

"Legolas, there's no need to rush into this," Thranduil began, only to be interrupted.

"There's every need. You must notify Ivana of the good news. Go tomorrow! Eyebrows might be raised by the suddenness of another 'hunting trip', but you can blame it all on the foul mood this conversation has put you in, making it necessary for you to get away. Your subjects know I can be quite…_rebellious_."

"Be serious, Legolas. I need you to think about this. I know what it is like to suffer a loveless marriage, and I don't want you to rush into this. Take your time and consider it. Alright?"

"Ivana will be thrilled," Legolas said as if he hadn't heard a word.

"She'd be even more thrilled if you took the message yourself, and explained in detail the suddenness of this whole thing," Thranduil said pointedly.

"The _children_, _ada_! The graduation!" Legolas exclaimed. But he had a different reason altogether. If Ivana saw him, she would instantly be able to fathom that the reason for his sudden marriage was _guilt_. And then she'd _never_ go. "She will understand," he said, "She knows how much the graduation means to them."

"I give up," Thranduil said, defeated, "You won't listen to reason. I'll arrange the meeting on the day after the graduation. Alright?"

_Are you joking?_ He thought, _how am I supposed to be alright with this?_ "Yes," he said.

"Alright then. You can go if you want to." Thranduil knew he needed some time to think.

Glad to get away, Legolas rose and walked slowly from his father's bedchamber to his own room. His mind was in a whirl. He did not want to get married. He _really_ did not want to get married. He liked his life the way it was, liked the _independence_ that he enjoyed that only a bachelor could enjoy. Now he had only one month of freedom left. _Only one month_. How would he spend it? He did not know.

He entered his room and closed and locked the door. He did not want to be disturbed. He had not yet fully absorbed how momentous the change in his life was going to be. He looked at his bed, and shuddered at the thought of sharing it with somebody. That started him thinking about what his wedding night would be like, and he suddenly panicked. He would have to expose himself to her! When no one in the world had seen him unclothed since the age of three…

He took a deep breath to calm himself and sat slowly down on the bed, battling with disturbing images that the last line of thought had brought on. _Oh ada_, he thought achingly, squeezing his eyes shut and falling back onto the bed, _The__ last time you asked me for something it turned my world upside down. This time, I think it might just destroy it._

…

TBC…

Hello, again! What did you think of the first chappie? I know it was a horrible start but please bear with me. Next chapter- the children, and what became of them! See you around, guys! And do please review, all of you.


	2. The Art of Teaching

Title: Until We Reach Valinor

Chapter 2: The Art of Teaching

NOTE: My apologies for reloading this chapter, but Lindahoyland pointed out a bloomer that had to be corrected. Thanks! This story is sequel to "A Teacher's Duty" and you'll have to read that one first to understand this one. Also, this story does _not_ contain slash, and it is _not_ a romance, despite what the first chapter might suggest.

SPECIAL THANKS to Orlando's Sweetheart for helping me pick the name of the woman, and the title to this story. Your help is much appreciated, thanks a lot.

Legolas remained in his room for the better part of the evening and the night, brooding about his impending 'doom', as he liked to refer to it in his mind. But after that he decided that he would stop thinking about it. He wanted to enjoy his last month of freedom as much as he could, and he would not let thoughts of the wedding mar his fleeting happiness. Yet they would frequently keep coming to him unless he immersed himself in something that would consume all his time and energy. Smiling in sudden decision, he donned a fresh tunic and breeches, and then walked swiftly out of his room.

There _was_ something that would consume all his thoughts if he immersed himself in it, and it was luckily something that he hugely enjoyed doing. Teaching. Over the next month, he decided, he would immerse himself in making the best he could out of the children so they would graduate with flying colors. So he would take them for another, shorter, hunting trip. And he would train them better than anyone their age had ever been trained before, even himself. _He would make successes out of them._

An hour later, after taking leave of his father, and making a bag of the few supplies he would need for the journey, he mounted his horse quickly and took off galloping towards the school, which he had established in a small palace two days ride from his father's palace. He smiled in remembrance of how he had converted its many bedrooms, chambers and dining rooms into dormitories with bunk beds. At the moment, the school housed seventy-one eager young pupils, a handful of servants, himself, and Elano, who was studying the art of healing and simultaneously helping him to run the school. And the wonder of it was; there was still space to house fifty more.

_Next year_, he reminded himself. There was still a month left before he could open his doors to a fresh batch of children. And he wasn't in any hurry, either. He wanted to relish every moment of the time spent with his first; and dearest batch of students. They had been his inspiration, and they were now his life. They were the reason for the school even being born, so he felt no shame in calling them 'dearest.'

He rode fast and hard, reaching the palace gates a few hours earlier than he had expected. He must have ridden his poor horse to death without realizing it. He patted it's neck in silent apology, and it looked at him with soulful eyes. He smiled.

His eyes traveled to the engraved letters on the plate above the gates. _The Royal Greenwood Institute of Archery and Swordsmanship_, it said in big bold letters. It always amused him because it sounded so pompous, and people who passed it bowed their heads, intimidated. Yet at most times it echoed with the laughter, chatter, mad whoops, and indignant shouts. It did not _sound_ pompous or intimidating.

As the guards opened the gates for him, he dismounted and handed the care of his horse over to a servant and walked with hasty steps up the narrow footpath that led to the back door of the palace. No one ever used the main entrance; it was far too…majestic.

He entered and was greeted enthusiastically by Elano, who had seen his approach through a window, "Sir! You've been a long time. Nothing wrong, I hope?"

"Oh, just political matters," he said evasively, "It's all sorted out though." He forced a small smile and quickly changed the subject. "How have the children been? Did they give you any trouble?"

"Well, _most_ of them were on their best behavior."

"Why, what happened?" Legolas said, concerned his emphasis on 'most.'

"Celin," Elano sighed, causing Legolas to groan.

"What did he do this time?" he asked, fearing something awful.

"It's more what he _didn't_ do, actually," Elano said.

"What do you mean?" His alarm was mounting.

"Well, sir, he hasn't attended a single class since you left."

Legolas closed his eyes briefly. Ever since Aragorn had examined his ankle and extinguished his last hope of recovery, Celin had been very…_depressed_. Even though Legolas had told him time and again that he would personally train him to be a teacher in the school, his dream had always been to fight. And letting go of that dream hadn't been easy, despite the honor that accompanied being taught the art of teaching by the Prince of Mirkwood himself.

Yet he had attended his classes regularly. He was often obnoxious, unbearably rude to his classmates at times, and was always being pulled up by Legolas for various lapses in discipline. His archery and swordsmanship, once excellent, was steadily slipping. But his regard for his teacher always endured - which was why he was rude to his classmates, even sometimes rude to Elano, but never rude to Legolas.

He never shirked classes, ever. This was the first time…was it because Legolas was the only thing tying him to school? That if he was gone, Celin would go as well? Legolas tried to shake off this thought, because it was frightening. It was a huge burden to be the one and only thing anchoring a person to sanity.

"Someone's got to do something about that boy," he said at length, sighing deeply, "Have you tried-?"

"Of course, sir," Elano said earnestly, "He's my best friend besides Ivana; of course I've tried and tried and _tried_ until I've almost swooned because of the whole thing, and it's still done no good. He'll only listen to you, sir, and even that with difficulty."

_I was afraid of that,_ Legolas thought, with an inward grimace. "We'll work it out," he said, sounding more confident than he felt. "In the meanwhile, did you get the list of names of all the people who want to continue training next year?"

"Yes, sir," Elano said, his face falling, "There aren't very many."

_I was afraid of that as well. Wonderful, just wonderful. I know just where this is going to lead. _He watched as Elano rummaged in his pocket and took out a piece of paper, on which around thirty names had been scrawled in various handwritings.

"That _few_?" he asked, shocked, "Why in the world- what did their parents _say_ to them!"

"For the boys that they are too young and should only join the army after they've enjoyed life for a while-"

"Well, they've got a point, but do they think I'd allow them do anything really dangerous at their age? They'd only get patrolling or something like that, unless there was a real emergency, which isn't the least bit likely! Really! Why they even sent them here in the first place is beyond me."

"For the girls it's-"

"I know; they fighting is a man's job. Girls need to stay home and cook and clean. Correct?"

Elano nodded, surprised by the sudden outburst. The truth was, Legolas was bitter about what Mirkwood had put Ivana through, and was now putting him through too.

"It's the same excuse each and every time," he said, unable to stop himself from ranting a little, "One of these days I'm going to change that law so that women can have some out of their houses for once!" he had spoken impulsively and without thinking, he realized, chagrinned.

"One of these days, sir?" Elano asked, mildly surprised, "I don't quite think the King would particularly approve of the idea. Or has he said something?"

_No, but I certainly will, when I'm King. I might as well do a bit of good._

Something of what he was thinking must have showed on his face, for Elano was looking at him very strangely. "No, just wishful thinking, Elano," he said, trying to convince him that it was nothing more, "Let's have that list."

Elano handed it to him, and he read it and re-read it. He saw the names of Aurel, the Azverlet twins, and Linnor, the only girls who were still continuing. And then Pilinel and Elgalad, and many others, but Celin's name was not on the list. His head snapped up.

"Why isn't Celin's name here?" he said sharply

"Sir, you know why," Elano said, quietly.

"He can't give up like this! I must talk to him. Do you know where he is?" Celin was the best student Legolas had every laid his eyes on, and he didn't want to loose him like this.

"I'm afraid not, sir, but he loves to sit atop trees for hours on end. It's been a recurring trend over the last few days."

"Thank you, I will go and find them. Take care of things till them, will you?"

"Yes, sir."

…

"Celin! There you are!" Legolas was so relieved at seeing his truant pupil, that he felt all his worries fly from his mind. For a moment. Then they all came flooding back. "Why have you been hiding here?" he asked, slightly sternly, "It took me an hour to find you." In truth, he felt relieved that Celin had been on the palace grounds. He had been beginning to fear that the boy had actually _run away_.

Upon seeing Legolas, Celin slid down from his perch on a tree branch, and turned to face his teacher. "You should not have bothered, sir," he said quietly, "The other children need you more than I do."

Legolas frowned at the defeat in his voice. This was going to be harder than he thought, "Celin, how many times have I got to tell you not to talk like that?" he said, with genuine concern, "Just because your ankle is gone, it does not mean you can be of no use to the army. I have told you time and time again, I will _personally_ train you to be a teacher. You can help me run this institute. I ask you, what is _wrong_ with that? _Why_ do you insist on acting as though it is taboo?"

"The truth, sir?"

"_Yes_."

"Then with all due respect, I think that you have forgotten something very important regarding teaching."

"What?"

"A person does not just _become_ a teacher just by being good at swordsmanship and archery," Celin's voice rose and he spoke rapidly; he had clearly been battling with himself about this for a long time before he had tried to broach it with Legolas, "He has to be able to impart that knowledge to others in an easy, uncomplicated manner! And I don't know if I have that gift! Or even the inclination to use it if I did!"

Legolas opened his mouth to protest, but his words caught in his throat. Celin _did_ have a point, he realized, he _had_ forgotten that teaching did not just come like that. But then after a moment's reflection, he also realized that _he_ didn't think he had that gift either, a year ago, when his father had asked it of him. But then with time…a _lot_ of time, he reminded himself wryly; things had gotten better. Bit by bit.

He took a deep breath and said, slowly, "You are right, Celin. I _had_ forgotten about that. I'm sorry."

Celin, who had been bracing himself for protests, was filled first with surprise, then admiration. He knew how much it cost a person of Legolas's social standing to admit being wrong to someone of his, and he was suddenly reminded why he respected his teacher so much.

"I'm sorry too, sir," he said, surprising himself with his own magnanimity, "I should not have raised my voice."

"No, you should not have," Legolas was forced to agree, for being a teacher at a school, he could no longer brush away Celin's disrespect as he would once have done, "But I understand why you did. You've been thinking about this a lot, haven't you?"

"Yes, sir."

"So did I, when my father first asked me to teach teenagers, my first reaction was a lot more dramatic than yours, but he being King, I could hardly say no. But I thought about whether I could teach or not. Whether I would be good enough-"

"But sir, you are good!" Celin exclaimed in surprise, "Even when we hated you the most, we always admitted you were a good teacher. You are able to put things in easier language for us so…._easily_. Why that doubt would ever occur to you is quite beyond me!"

"Thank you for the flattery, Celin, but you have to realize something," Legolas said fervently, "Something I learnt the hard way when I took you for that hunting trip. Teaching does not only mean being able to impart knowledge, it also means understanding your students on a deep emotional level. It was a hard lesson, but I now know why I could never make any real impression on you for so long. I'm not at all good with personal relationships, and I never have been, and that is why I always failed to be a good teacher. But _you_ are, Celin, _you _are good with personal relationships. When you talk, the class listens. When you're upset, the whole _class_ is affected. When you're planning a mad scheme to 'save Mirkwood' as you did six months ago, no one questions it. So in your own way, you too have the makings of a good teacher."

"I never thought about it that way, sir," Celin said, dazed as he pondered what his teacher was saying.

"I know you didn't. So I want to give you time to think about this and discover yourself. Next week, I'm taking all of you for another two-week hunting trip. Come with us, I'll arrange for you to practice teaching the others for the first time, and _then_ you make your decision about continuing next year. Agreed?"

"I don't know what to say…"

"I promise that I won't try to change your decision after the trip, if you agree not to decide until after the trip," Legolas hoped he was making the right decision as he said it, but he knew he could not get Celin to agree if he did not promise this; "Think about it, Celin. Don't you owe it to yourself?"

"I…"

"_Celin._"

"Alright, sir," Celin said after a long moment, "I will do as you ask, but only if you promise, as you said you would, not to 'make suggestions' afterwards."

"I promise, but only if you attend classes regularly from now onward."

"I will, sir," Celin smiled sheepishly.

"Good," Legolas said, "I'm glad we cleared that up. But now I have to punish you for not attending classes these past few days. An extra hour of practice with me everyday till the trip starts, and you must also go to bed an hour early every night, again till the trip starts. That's fair, isn't it?"

" Si-ir!" Celin protested, but he was cut off by Legolas's firm, uncompromising voice:

"This is a school, Celin. Not just an impromptu class like it was a few months ago. We have rules now. I have to enforce them, and you have to keep them. Do you understand?"

"_Yes_, sir," Celin conceded regretfully, and began to walk back to the palace, suitably chastised.

Legolas grimaced at his retreating back. Sometimes, even though he had started the institute, he wished it did not have so many _rules_.

…

TBC…

Hello! Awfully sorry I didn't post this sooner. I've been very busy. I'm a little stumped by the fanfiction world. The last chapter got 112 hits, someone actually added it to their alert's list, and guess how many reviews I got? One! I mean, seriously! If even a tenth of you reviewed, I'd be on top of the world!

Lindahoyland: Hello! Thank you for reviewing the last chapter, it was very nice of you. (Gives others a dirty look). I've been meaning to ask you something. You've read all four of my Aragorn-Legolas stories, that's Despair and Hope, Friend and Foe, A Truly Terrible Fate, and A Teacher's Duty. Would you do me a favor? Please rate them in order of preference, and give reasons for that too? I want to know where I went wrong with what so I can improve. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. This story may be about marriage, and friendship, but it'll always be about the kids as well. And they make a great backbone too! Thank you for the birthday greeting.

And yes, it was rash of Legolas to just decide to marry like that, but since one of my friends' marriages has just been arranged in a similar way (well not exactly similar- just that she doesn't know the guy at all, her parents are making them marry each other later on coz they're both of the same caste), I don't find it that weird. Besides, he can always say no if it's too bad. Thranduil wisely left the option open to him. Oh, and, I hope you don't mind, but I found that comment about hiding under the bedclothes and wearing a nightshirt very amusing, and am going to use it in later chapters. Ta! Happy writing!


	3. Memories

Title: Until We Reach Valinor

Chapter 3: Memories

NOTE: This story is sequel to "A Teacher's Duty" and you'll have to read that one first to understand this. Also, this story does _not_ contain slash, and it is _not_ a romance, despite what the first chapter might suggest about the latter.

SPECIAL THANKS to Orlando's Sweetheart for helping me pick the name of the woman, and the title to this story. Help is much appreciated, thanks a lot. Where've you disappeared to, anyway?

That said, on with the chapter.

…

Legolas paused before locking the palace gates, "Are you _sure_ there's nothing we've left behind?" he asked Elano.

"Yes sir, but there might be some _one_ we left behind," came the reply, "I'll do a head count."

"Yes, you do that," He locked the gate, knowing that all the children had been ready to leave at the crack of dawn, so there was very little chance that any of them were left behind. The head count was hardly a necessity- but it was always good to be safe, so he didn't grudge the extra time.

He re-checked the supplies, the condition of the horses, and made sure he had carried enough non-meat items for Elano to eat. Last time, though he had carried a huge amount of waybread, cheese, and dried fruit, he knew the Elf had not been able to eat as much as he would have liked to. He had no intention of making him go hungry again.

"All here, sir," Elano said after a ten minute interval.

"Celin included?" Legolas asked; just to make sure.

"Celin included," Elano smiled.

"Good, then we might as well leave now, before one of them gets lost," He mounted his horse, and then raised his voice to get their attention, "Class! CLASS! Mount your horses, please. We're leaving!"

They gave a loud cheer which resounded through the forest, startling the trees. They all wanted to get away from the school, which had been very oppressive of late, what with all the preparation for the graduation, looming closer and closer every day.

As Arod bore him swiftly away, Legolas could not help marveling at the differences between this trip and last one. He was much more relaxed this time, no longer continually looking over his shoulder to keep tabs on the children. He trusted them now, and he knew they could look after themselves. And even if anything were to go wrong, Elano was there, whose healing hands were all the more powerful now that Aragorn was training him. _That's probably why_, he thought, amused with his own line of reasoning, _it's only because I know there's another adult coming with us. Last time, I thought Elano was a child._ The thought amazed him. Elano was so wise, so mature, that it always stunned him that he had ever thought of him as anything but a wise, mature adult.

"Sir!"

A voice broke through his reverie. He looked up, and saw that Elano was now riding abreast with his horse. He smiled, pleased to see that he was now so at home on horses. All the practice he had insisted on giving him had paid off. "What is it, Elano?" he said, realizing that Elano probably wanted to ask him something.

"Are you _sure_ about setting camp at the tree house again, sir? There isn't any chance of another orc attack, is there?"

"Elano, for the thousandth time," Legolas said, slightly irritated by the repetition of the question, "That place is one of the securest in Mirkwood. There are large patrols in that area which will not let a single live orc through, especially if they are as few as they were last time."

"I'm sorry, sir," Elano sighed, catching the exasperation in the older Elf's voice, "In truth, the only reason I keep asking is because I'm afraid that seeing the tree house again will conjure up a number of bad memories, ones I don't particularly want to face."

Legolas sighed. It was something he had thought of as well. "I know, Elano. I don't want to face it either. But we have no choice. There's no better location in the entirety of Mirkwood that I know of."

"Yes, sir. Once again, you are correct. It seems to have become a trend," Elano said, half-jestingly.

"Oh you don't know the half of it," Legolas gave a world-weary sigh, "Truth be told, I'm as nervous about setting foot in that clearing as you are. Terrible things happened there, which I want to remember about as much as you do. But it is a strategic location- close to the stream, the shelter, and even…" He stopped suddenly.

"Even what, sir?" Elano asked.

Legolas hesitated. He did _not_ want to explain that particular "even." It was something that would cause his students a great deal of anxiety, especially Linnor. And he didn't want her or the other children to spend any sleepless nights over it. He would tell them only when the time came. But still, he hoped he was doing the right thing.

"Sir?" Elano asked, breaking through his thoughts again to demand an answer.

"I'm sorry, Elano, what were you saying?" Legolas asked, praying the Elf had forgotten.

"I was saying, even what, sir?"

"It…well, let's just say that it's a surprise," Legolas said, not wanting to lie, "You'll find out soon enough."

"Is it a _good_ surprise?" Elano said, suspiciously concerned.

"It depends on how you look at it," Legolas replied, though he knew _exactly_ how Elano would look at it.

"Sir, could you please-"

"The time will come, Elano. Don't worry. It isn't _that_ bad. It's just a teaching strategy I've been working on."

"I see," Elano was still not convinced, but he decided to let it go. "As you were saying, the location _is_ very strategic, sir."

"Yes."

Elano never was one for small talk, so to Legolas's great relief, he fell silent after this. A few moments later, he slowed his horse slightly and fell behind so that his teacher (for he still considered him as that) would not feel obligated to talk to him.

Legolas could not help heaving a sigh of relief. In the course of the next two days, he and Elano did not converse much. He did catch the younger Elf watching him on a few occasions, but did not pay it any heed. Elano would know what was in his mind soon enough.

In the meantime, he preoccupied himself with the stresses of traveling with so many people, and the day to day responsibilities that kept cropping up because teenagers _would_ be teenagers. In fact, he immersed himself in all this so completely, he almost forgot about his worries. _Almost._

…

The party reached the clearing on the afternoon of the third day. They entered it in silence; even the children could not escape the memories. Their eyes traveled around it, images of Legolas injured on the ground, crying beneath a tree, Celin gasping in pain, clutching his ankle, Elano reading out a letter…all flashed through their minds.

But being children, they recovered quickly. A whisper, a reply to it, more whispers, low chattering, louder chattering, a surprised yell as somebody stepped on somebody else's foot; and in the blink of an eye they were back to their normal, vibrant, talkative selves.

It was Legolas and Elano who did not recover so fast. But, knowing that seeming upset would draw a swarm of concerned teenagers to their sides; they pushed their emotions to the back of their minds, and busied themselves with setting up camp. And indeed, getting all the supplies up to the tree house, setting up the tents, replenishing water, and starting up fires took the better part of the day, leaving them with little time to think.

It was dusk when they sat down to dinner, a meal which the youngsters were most proud of, as they had prepared it entirely by themselves. Legolas was not surprised that they had not lost their cooking skills; considering how he had hammered them into their heads last summer it would have perplexed him if they _had_ forgotten. But he and Elano made a big show of praising the slightly burnt stew (for some reason it was always slightly burnt when _they_ made it) and telling them it was wonderful they remembered their lessons. They were quite delighted with themselves, and being extremely excitable, would not sleep half the night.

He knew from experience that it wasn't a good idea to discipline them forcefully, so he told them to decide who would take watch with whom, and when; and went to his own tent to rest. For a moment he thought again about how different things were. Last year, he would have insisted on keeping watch. Or at least, he would have organized their _watches_. He smiled, remembering how foolish he had been- not sleeping for an entire _month_, because he refused to trust them and give them second chances when they made mistakes.

But then his mind turned to darker memories- his attempt to kill himself, of his letter (he shuddered at the thought and thanked the Valar that Aragorn had never fully read it), of Ivana, moaning in pain after being stabbed in the stomach. He turned on his side, unable to sleep, unable to _control_ his memories.

Elano slipped in during the small hours of the morning- _hours_ after the chatter of the children had been replaced by sleepy silence. Legolas watched him spreading out his bedroll, trying to decide whether or not to speak to him, until Elano caught him blinking.

"Sir? Did I wake you?" the younger Elf asked, shifting uncomfortably under the other's gaze.

"No, Elano, I wasn't even asleep, so you didn't wake me up," Legolas said, sitting up and lowering his eyes a little to relieve Elano.

The younger Elf looked at him for a moment. "You went to bed hours ago, sir," he said after a pause.

It was not a question, it was a statement. Legolas didn't quite know where this was going, so he responded in kind. "Aye, so I did."

After another moment of silence, "Are they bothering you, sir?"

"What?" Legolas wondered if Elano was talking about the children, who were always bothering him, but were fast asleep at the moment, so couldn't possibly be.

"The memories, sir," Elano clarified, "Are they bothering you?"

He knew his face had answered the question, so he did not try to lie. He just gave a half shrug which could have been taken for a yes or a no. Predictably, Elano took it as a yes.

"They're bothering me, too," Elano said, sitting down cross-legged on his bedroll.

"Is that why you are up so late?"

"I was thinking. Walking around the clearing and just…thinking," Elano answered softly, apparently lost in thought.

"And remembering," Legolas concluded with a sad smile, "It hurts, doesn't it?"

"It does, a little. But sir, there is one thought that comforts me a great deal."

"What's that?"

"Everything that happened here- brought me to where I am today. I don't mean that it built my character, or made me stronger; that's true, but it's also true of any other bad experience. In that tree house, while I struggled to save Ivana's life, I came to terms with the fact that I could never become a warrior. That my path was peace and my vocation was in healing. And look where I am today," he smiled slightly, "Being trained, at your recommendation, by King Elessar himself!"

There was a long silence as Legolas mulled this over in his head. Then, "I suppose you're right," he said in a soft whisper.

"_I_ like to think so," Elano said, jestingly, and then lay down on his cot with his back to Legolas. He sensed the Elf needed some privacy to process what he had said.

Which he did. He thought for a long time about what Elano had said, and then concluded that he was right. All the joy he got out of teaching, and loving, and being loved by his students, had all started here. He wouldn't give that up for anything. He lay down, and this time, contentment washed over him as he smiled, turned on his side, and finally went to sleep.

…

TBC…

I hope you didn't think that was too soppy, but I really thought it was necessary. I wasn't planning to write about it, but then I was re-reading "A Teacher's Duty" and I thought, oh my god, a LOT of stuff happened at the tree house! It was like, the center of the whole story, so I decided to devote these few pages to remind myself (and you) of it. Next chapter will have more happening.

Oh, and, speaking of arranged marriages, guess what! My parents are always talking about when I get married, then the guy will do this, or I will do that, so I just sort of jokingly asked, what'll happen if I DON'T fall in love and remain a spinster all my life? (My parents fell in love and married, so I never had any cause to worry about arranged marriages). But to my great amazement and alarm, my mum was like, if you're not married by 25, we'll find a guy for you! And she was being serious, too (I think). Oh dear, I am so done for…just like Legolas. God help me.

In the meantime, I apologize for not updating in so long. Also, I'm pleased that my review count suddenly shot to 4 last chapter! And another thing- just a note to say that from next chapter onwards, I'll be using the new review reply system to reply to your reviews. This will be the last time I'm typing out review replies, except for anonymous reviewers. Thanks! Please review!

BitterLee: Hello! You always pop up whenever I'm down to one review, don't you? I didn't really think you were reading a Teacher's Duty, I thought you dropped those couple of reviews last time, just for politeness' sake. Well, am I glad to see you! Congratulations on your brother's wedding! Lee, isn't it? Oh, and, I thought you never got time to review my work, being at work and all. How come you reviewed the last chapter?

Kabuki733701: Although this chapter may have seemed quite tame, Legolas's problem's have barely begun. The poor guy won't know what hit him by the time I've finished a quarter of this story! Thanks for reviewing, it is great to see you back!

Isilwen: Wow, a new reader! I didn't expect that, but that makes me even more pleased. Thanks for reviewing. I'm glad you like my including the children, because this story IS going to be about them as well as Alanna. It's sort of well…a fall back. I can switch between the two so the story won't get boring. Oh and there's Aragorn too. Legolas is going to have his work cut out for him. Thanks for the review!

Lindahoyland: Thank you for the review reply, am I supposed to reply to them? Oh and, I know about the replacing chapter thingy, it's just that I pressed delete instead of edit. Go figure, I'm completely trigger happy. I'm glad you liked the teaching bit, it struck me only recently. I mean, Celin is a lot of things, but a teacher? That remains to be seen. Thank you for your review, and please update your story soon.

Many thanks all of you! Bye! Next chapter- Celin!


	4. Disappointment and Joy

Title: Until We Reach Valinor

Chapter 4: Disappointment and Joy

NOTE: This story is sequel to "A Teacher's Duty" and you'll have to read that one first to understand this one. Also, this story does _not_ contain slash, and it is _not_ a romance, despite what the first chapter might suggest.

SPECIAL THANKS to Orlando's Sweetheart for helping me pick the name of the woman, and the title to this story. Your help is much appreciated, thanks a lot.

Now, on with the story.

…

"Celin!" Legolas hissed, not wanting to wake anyone but him.

Celin woke with a start, "Sir?" he whispered.

Legolas jerked his hand towards the outside of the tent and removed his head from the opening. Celin rose quietly, treaded carefully through the sleeping forms of his tent-mates, and ducked outside the tent.

"You wished to sp-speak with me, sir?" he asked, trying valiantly not to yawn.

Legolas smiled at his sleepiness, "My apologies for waking you this early. You can go back to sleep in a minute. I merely wanted to tell you that what I taught you in those extra hours of practice I made you do in punishment for not attending classes- I want you to teach it to the class, starting today."

"What?" Celin gasped, his drowsiness evaporating, "But I don't even know it that well myself, to teach it!"

"You know it as well as you'll ever know it," Legolas said reassuringly, "You are a fast learner, Celin- twice as fast as anybody else here, and you _have_ learnt everything I taught you. We both know that. All that remains now is to see how well you will be able to teach _them_ what you know."

"Sir, you should have told me that you wanted me to teach what you were teaching me!" Celin protested, rather besides himself, "Then I would have-"

"Paid greater attention?" Legolas interrupted. "That isn't how this works. You learn everything with equal attention, so if you are sprung a surprise of this kind, you won't be unprepared. And you aren't unprepared- you paid as much attention as you could."

Celin could not argue with this, "Alright, sir," he said after a long moment, "I will do as you say, but I hope you do not expect too much of me. I don't wish to disappoint you."

"Do your best, and you will never disappoint me," Legolas reassured him, "Now go back to bed."

"You must be joking, sir, I could never sleep after this! I have to plan out how I am to teach them!" Celin sounded horrified by the mere idea of sleep now.

Legolas smiled to himself, he had expected this, "Alright then. Do as you will. Just don't worry too much."

Celin nodded and began to walk away.

"Oh, and Celin?"

"Yes, sir?"

"It goes without saying, but don't expect any help from me, except perhaps to demonstrate what you're teaching them."

"Of course, sir. As you said, it goes without saying."

As Legolas looked after him, he wondered fleetingly if he had done the right thing.

…

"Class! CLASS! Please, quiet down!" Legolas yelled over the din, clapping his hands to draw their attention.

He was meeting with a lot of rebellion today- the children were in absolutely no mood to learn new things with the graduation coming up, especially since what they would learn today was not part of their coursework for this year.

"Sir," somebody whined, "Can't you _please_ give us an off today?"

"No, indeed I cannot," Legolas said sternly, "Or rather, _I_ can. Celin is the one who will be teaching you today, not me. So technically, you do have an off, but only from me."

The class immediately broke out chattering about this new development. Legolas decided that this was a good time for him to make his exit. He turned quietly, and, unnoticed, crept to the far end of the clearing so he could watch at a distance how the class proceeded.

"Celin, what is this?"

"How come you never told us?"

"Why does he want _you_ to teach _us_?"

Celin held a hand up, suddenly finding himself in his element. He really had an extraordinary ability of getting people to listen to him. It merely depended on what he said. For they might listen to him, but they might not cooperate him.

"Sir wants me to practice teaching- you know, so he knows how good I am at it," he said in a deliberately off-hand manner, "It all depends on how much you learn, you know, So please, just give this a try, will you? For _my_ sake. I promise I'll let you go early if sir let's me."

This was met with a flurry of agreement. Legolas smiled delightedly as he watched Celin bend the class to his will effortlessly. He had their cooperation. The question was, would he be able to teach them?

"What are you teaching us, Celin?"

"Is it something we already know?"

"Is it difficult?"

"How long do you think it will take to learn, Celin?"

"It's something new, and you'll soon find out about the rest of your questions. Just get your swords and your scarves."

"Scarves?"

"Whatever fo -"

"JUST GO AND GET THEM, WILL YOU!" Celin roared, making them all jump. He took a deep breath and said, "Look, I know we all thought it was paranoid of sir to ask us to bring scarves in the summer, but there was a reason for it. So just stop arguing and _bring_ them."

Legolas smiled; amused by this comment, evidently they had forgotten he was still there. He found it quite hilarious that they had found him paranoid.

"So, what are we doing _with_ the scarves?" Pilinel asked a few minutes later.

"Sir?" Celin asked, jolting Legolas out of his reverie, "Could you please help me demonstrate?"

"Yes of course, Celin," Legolas said. He took the scarf from Celin's hand and tied gently but firmly over his eyes

Celin spun around once, and then said in the general direction of a tree, "We're going to have to learn how to fight someone when we're blindfolded and they're not."

There was a gasp from the others. The task was more difficult than anything they had confronted before. Instantly, they wished that Legolas was teaching them. For how could Celin ever teach them how to do something so…_difficult?_

Celin, feeling their alarm, wondered if he should say something to reassure them. But then, he thought, perhaps it was better to let them see for themselves.

He took a deep breath, and emptied his mind of all thought as Legolas had taught him to. He shut his ears to the sounds of the whispers around him, and opened them to every sound that Legolas was making. He sharpened all of his senses, and when he thought he was ready, he said, "Now, sir."

Legolas's sword swung into action, and to everybody's amazement, Celin's was there to meet it. In fact, he was able to meet every one of Legolas's blows successfully. After two minutes, he thought they had seen enough.

"What did you think?" he said, untying the scarf from around his eyes.

They were looking at him with wide eyes.

"What?" he said nervously, "It's not that difficult."

"You are amazing, Celin," said a hushed voice, "That was…brilliant."

"Er…thanks," Celin said uncomfortably, "It really isn't that difficult, mellonamin. You just have to learn to use all your senses."

Legolas thought this would be a good time to make himself scarce, so he sidled back to the corner, unnoticed by all except Celin, who gave him a look before turning back to the class.

"Now you've got to teach that to us," Linnor stated finally, after they had spent a long time just staring at each other's faces.

"Yes," Celin said, bracing himself. "Pair up, and draw lots to see who will be blindfolded first."

There was a sharp intake of breath from Legolas which thankfully nobody heard. He thought it was a mistake to leave something like this up to chance- because there were some who had the skill to downplay their skills when occasion required it, and some who did not, so the partners could not be picked through merely drawing lots. _But then_, he reminded himself, _you know these students' abilities much better than Celin does. It's your job to know them- and Celin has never bothered to observe these things until now. He won't know whom to give which roll even if he doesn't do things by chance. So I won't interfere, not this time._

Later, he half-wished he had. Celin was good at demonstrations, but not at explanations. He was not able to use the right technical terms; as a result they did not understand what _exactly_ he wanted them to do, and the whole thing was more or less a fiasco. Legolas watched with grim resignation as the class, bruised and in some cases bloody, went to change their clothes and wash their faces after the grueling lesson.

Celin walked towards Legolas after everyone had gone. His teacher appeared to be lost in thought.

"Sir?" he said tentatively.

Legolas jerked out of his reverie, "Yes, Celin?"

"It…it went badly, did it not?"

"You did your best, Celin," Legolas said, sighing heavily, _I just wish it could have been better._

"Sir…I'm sorry to disappoint you," Celin said, crestfallen.

"Listen to me," Legolas said, suddenly realizing how his behavior was being read by the boy, "You _did not_ disappoint me. You did your best, and no one can ask for more than that. Just, next time, don't leave the pairings up to chance. Match people according to their skills, and to do that, you have to observe people from now on. Or you'll never succeed in getting the pairings right."

"But if you aren't disappointed in me, why did you sigh like that?"

Legolas hesitated. He had been thinking how droll the school would be if Celin decided not to continue next year, but he had promised the boy he wouldn't try to influence his decision, so how could he give him that answer?

"Sir?" Celin asked, wondering whether the teacher had forgotten he was there.

"Yes, Celin, I'm still here," Legolas sighed; "I just don't know how to answer that question."

"So you _are_ disappointed in me then."

"No! Of course not! I just…I can't answer the question because if I did I would be breaking the promise I made to you a week ago."

To Legolas's amazement, Celin started to laugh. "Oh, sir, don't tell me you've been worrying about me leaving?"

"Well, actually I have been," Legolas said, bewildered, "You did seem very crestfallen after today's class. But…" he brightened considerably, "Does this mean that you _won't_ be leaving then?"

"No, of course not, sir," Celin answered, smiling slightly, "If I can't fight, then I want to become a teacher, and it strikes me that I can improve upon it best if I'm able to observe _your_ teaching skills at close quarters. After all, sir, you are the only one who can help me find my path; I would be a fool to turn my back on that."

A great load fell away from Legolas's heart, and his features lit up in a rare, bright smile, "Oh, Celin, thank you for saying that," he said with heartfelt joy, "You don't know how much it means to me."

"Actually, sir, I think I do," Celin said surprisingly, "It is part of the reason I made the decision to stay. I would never want to cause you pain if I could help it."

Legolas was touched. "I…Celin, that...thank you for saying that," he stammered, "But please don't let my influence burden you in the future."

"Don't thank me, sir;" Celin replied, choosing to ignore the second part of the sentence, "I want this as much as you do. It isn't some favor I'm doing you. On the contrary, you're the one that needs to be thanked. Thank _you_, sir."

Legolas watched in speechless wonder as he walked away. He had never been more happy, more touched, or more proud of anyone in his life. All his worries about Celin evaporated in that one instant, and he turned his mind to other things. Such as Linnor.

…

TBC…

So sorry I tool so long over this update, but this is the best I can do with all the homework we have. If it's any consolation, you have my assurance that I will never quit with this story. Not as long as I'm alive, LOL.

Many thanks to my reviewers for their kindness. Thanks all of you! Next chapter- Linnor, and the 'surprise' Legolas was referring to last chapter.


	5. A Few Upsets

Title: Until We Reach Valinor

Chapter 5: A Few Upsets

NOTE: This story is sequel to "A Teacher's Duty" and you'll have to read that one first to understand this. Also, this story does _not_ contain slash, and it is _not_ a romance, despite what the first chapter might suggest about the latter.

SPECIAL THANKS to Orlando's Sweetheart for helping me pick the name of the woman, and the title of and in this story. Help is much appreciated; thanks a lot.

That said, on with the chapter.

…

Legolas looked upon the drowsy faces of seventy-two teenagers and took a deep breath, preparing himself. Today he was going to attempt to do something which would probably- no, _definitely_ not be met by his class's instant approval. And it didn't help in the least that he had to announce it first thing in the morning, when everyone was half asleep and irritable to begin with.

"Good morning, all of you," he began.

A chorus of sleepy grunts and incoherent syllables reached his ears.

"I'm sorry I had to wake you so early today, but I have to give you a special lesson which will require us to walk some distances."

"Sir, is Celin going to be teaching us?" some one said from behind.

Legolas's eyes sought Celin's smiling ones in the crowd. The boy had been improving slowly and steadily and everyone was encouraging him enthusiastically. Legolas suspected it was also a feeling of triumph that they were being taught by one of _their_ number that prompted some of their enthusiasm, but whatever it was, it spoke volumes for Celin's potential to improve.

"No, Elgalad, Celin is not going to be teaching you today," Legolas answered, "Because this is something he is cannot teach."

Celin's smile vanished. He did not know what this announcement boded for him, but he somehow knew he was not going to like it.

"But sir, what _is_ it?" Linnor asked impatiently.

Legolas wished anyone but she had asked that question, "Well…Linnor do you remember last year when you got lost and were almost attacked by spiders?"

Linnor nodded, shuddering at the memory, which she would never forget as long as she lived.

"Well, I looked over that glade carefully," Legolas continued, "And it doesn't seem to have as many spiders as either of us thought."

"What are you _talking_ about, sir- it had thousands!" Linnor said with conviction.

"Well, actually it didn't, it just seemed like that because we were both so tense at the time."

"That's not true!" Linnor said, her voice rising slightly, "I saw them with my own eyes, and so did you! There were thousands of them- _millions_!"

"Linnor, you were scared, and when people are scared, their minds tend to exaggerate things," Legolas said patiently.

"So, what are you saying, sir?" Linnor's said with a touch of barely concealed hysteria as she started to realize where this line of conversation was going, "What, are we going to go back there and risk our lives again?"

"Linnor, I have brought enough of the antidote with me!" Legolas replied, trying to placate her, "No one will get hurt this time, because unlike last year, we are going to be _completely_ prepared!"

"That's not the point," Linnor said sobbingly, "You…I…I can't believe you would…after…" She couldn't get the words out. Fear washed over her, blocking out her reason, and with it came guilt that had haunted the periphery of her mind for more than half a year without her knowledge.

"This foe is something you will all face sooner or later, Linnor," Legolas said soothingly, trying to break through her inner turmoil and make her see that he was right, "If you live in Mirkwood, you _have_ to accept the fact that it houses deadly spiders, and sooner or later, you have to face your fears and learn how to fight them. And that goes for the rest of you, too." he added, looking around at his class, who were almost as worried as Linnor.

Linnor could barely speak. Panic, anger, fear, guilt invaded her mind and body, overwhelming the rest of her senses. "You don't understand!" she sobbed, and stumbled blindly away, disappearing into the abating darkness of dawn.

Legolas looked after her and sighed. He glanced at Elano, who was looking none too amused. _That went well_, he thought sarcastically, as his eyes met the thunderstruck gazes of seventy-one now no longer drowsy teenagers.

…

"Was this the…er…_surprise_ you were referring to earlier, sir?" Elano asked in an undertone, after everyone dispersed, muttering amongst themselves, to prepare for the half-day journey.

"Yes," Legolas said, having the grace to look abashed.

"From what angle exactly would you call this a _good_ surprise?" Elano asked, referring incredulously to their previous conversation.

Legolas smiled ruefully. "Don't start with me, Elano," he said dejectedly, "You know quite well that this is necessary."

"Yes, sir, and _you _know equally well that this is very dangerous!" Elano exclaimed.

"Didn't you hear what I was telling everybody, Elano? Or do I have to convince you too? The antidote to their venom grows there, in that same glade! And moreover, I have brought a number of tinctures made out of the same plant, just in case!"

"Sir, it is still a very dangerous thing to take seventy-two teenagers into a spider's lair! Even with two adults present!"

"I'll be taking them in batches, and there will only be _one_ adult present, thank you."

"That's beside the p- wait a minute, what do you mean, only one adult? Who do you think will heal them if-?"

"You will stay right here and keep an eye on Celin!" Legolas said firmly, "I don't want him to sneak after us."

"He's staying, oh no, I could _kick_ myself!" Elano exclaimed in distress, much to Legolas's surprise, "Oh, why didn't you say so earlier, sir!"

"Of course he's staying! Do you actually think I'd let him come for something like this? What would happen if his ankle played up again, and he fainted right in the middle of an army of venomous spiders? You know I can't risk that."

"Oh sir, _I_ never thought you would take him," Elano said, waving Legolas's exclamations, "It's just that it didn't strike me- we both took it so much for granted- neither of us even mentioned it to him! Now Celin's going to assume he's allowed to go, sir, and it's going to be an even bigger disappointment when we tell him."

"Well, I can't help that," Legolas said, more sharply than he had intended because he was angry with himself, "I can't take Celin along today, and that's all there is to it. It's too dangerous, and he'd only be a _liability_ if he came."

There was a sharp intake of breath from behind them. Legolas swung around…and found himself looking straight into the hurt, angry eyes of Celin himself.

…

Legolas sighed. He had been doing that a lot lately. He sensed it was going to be a very long day. It was not even dawn yet, and he had already caused two upsets, albeit for different reasons.

"Don't worry, sir," the perceptive Elano interrupted his thoughts, seeming to know exactly what he was thinking, "You go and talk to Linnor, start on the trip. I'll talk some sense into him."

If Legolas had not been so preoccupied, he would have noticed from Elano's tone that he meant more than what he said. There was a grim, determined look on his face which rarely found occasion to grace the features of one so quiet and submissive. But Legolas had too much to worry about to notice such subtleties.

"Thank you," he said in response to Elano's offer, "The journey will be long, and if I want to get back here by nightfall, I cannot speak to both Linnor _and_ Celin, much as I'd like to. Please…apologize to Celin for me. I did not mean to say such things."

_You may not have meant to say them, but you certainly felt them_, Elano thought, _and it's high time Celin was acquainted with that, much as it hurts me to be the one to do it. _

"I will, sir," he said aloud, "Don't worry yourslef, everything will be alright."

"I hope so, Elano," Legolas said, still dismayed by the way the day had started.

"I'll try," Elano said wryly, "In the meantime, keep the rest of them safe. I would very much appreciate it if my healing abilities were not in desperate need when you return. Take care of yourself, sir, and make sure you have enough of those tinctures with you."

"I will. I mean I do," Legolas said distractedly, already wondering how he would talk sense into Linnor, "Goodbye."

Elano watched Legolas's form retreating into the forest and then turned resolutely towards the tree house, where he was sure both Linnor and Celin had gone. After all, it was the only place in the clearing which allowed some privacy, which both were in desperate need of.

…

Linnor looked up through a film of tears and saw Celin's head appear above the wooden platform she was standing on. He had obviously not been expecting her to be present, because he appeared startled by her presence, and stubbed his toe against a protruding twig.

He swore colorfully, climbing up on to the wooden floor of the tree house and reaching down to rub his toe.

"Hello to you too, Celin," she said, rolling her eyes at his antics.

Celin gave her a sour look. "Very funny," he took in her tear stained cheeks and red eyes. "Are you alright?" he asked tentatively.

"Oh, I'm peachy, thanks," Linnor said sarcastically, glaring at him.

Celin threw up his hands in surrender, "Alright! I know you have cause to be upset. Don't jump down my throat, _I_ wasn't the one to cause all this. It was _sir_."

Linnor caught the bitterness in his voice. "Are _you_ alright?" she asked, looking at him more closely.

"Oh, I'm peachy, thanks," Celin repeated what she had said, and with a hollow laugh, he threw himself on the floor with a thud that rocked the entire tree house.

"Did sir say something?" she guessed intuitively.

His eyes suddenly filled with tears at the mention of his teacher. "That's not your concern!" he said, blinking them back, but not before she had seen them.

"I'll take that to be a yes."

"Yes, and if you were a bit more mindful of your own health, you'd also take that to be a sign that I want to be alone!" He was venting all his frustrations on her, and both knew it.

She raised an eyebrow at the empty threat, and said, her troubles forgotten for a moment, "You _do_ realize I was here first."

"Please, Linnor," Celin was not in any mood to joke, and his tone showed it, "Either you leave or I will. Although seeing as you have to go on that trip, you might as well…"

Linnor's eyes hardened at the mention of the trip, which ironically was the root of both of their troubles, "That isn't fair, Celin," she said reprovingly, "There was no need to bring that up."

"I know, I'm sorry," he said earnestly, "But sir's going to hunt you down sooner than later, and I really don't want to be here when he does." He started to climb down the tree, but Linnor stopped him.

"Don't," she said, wearily, "You're right. He _is_ going to hunt me down, and if I know anything about him, convince me that everything will turn out all right and actually make me _optimistic_ about this trip," she sighed, shaking her head, "But I really do not want to go. I'm too scared."

Celin could not think of anything to say except, "Good luck." He bit back everything he wanted to say about how _lucky_ she was to be able to go.

When she had gone, and he had nothing to distract himself with, his teacher's words replayed themselves in his head. _He'd only be a liability if he came._ So after all this time, that's all he was to sir. A liability. His eyes filled with tears again; he blinked them back, resolutely gazing at the canopy of tree-tops around him.

But even as he fought, the hurt and betrayal overwhelmed him. Tears continued to fill his eyes, and he continued to brush them away and pretend they weren't there. As he struggled with his emotions, he heard a log creak behind him. He turned, and found himself face to face with Elano.

…

TBC…

Again, my apologies for not updating this earlier. This is my first real cliffhanger of this story! I am back, people! And don't worry, there will be a lot more to come. LOL, I should really just stop talking.

Thanks to all my kind reviewers. A question: Do you want an elaborate description of the spider scene, or should I just cut straight to after it's happened? Please review and tell me!


	6. A Dose of Reality

Title: Until We Reach Valinor

Chapter 6: A Dose of Reality

NOTE: This story is sequel to "A Teacher's Duty" and you'll have to read that one first to understand this. Also, this story does _not_ contain slash, and it is _not_ a romance, despite what the first chapter might suggest.

SPECIAL THANKS to Orlando's Sweetheart for helping me pick the name of the woman Legolas's bride-to-be as well as the title of this story.

That said, on with the chapter.

…

"Did sir send you?" Celin asked dully.

Elano's brow furrowed, "No, as a matter of a fact, I came here of my own accord."

"Well, you needn't have bothered. There's nothing you can say which can soften the blow."

"That's not why I came here," Elano said, surprisingly, "I have to tell you something else. Something that isn't pleasant, but something, all the same, you need to hear."

"I've heard enough unpleasant things for one day," Celin replied in the same dull voice, "So please, make yourself scarce if you aren't here to comfort me. Although, I doubt that you could say anything comforting in the first place."

"I'm not here to comfort you," Elano said, more sharply than he had ever spoken to him before, "I'm here to give you a much-needed dose of reality."

"What do you mean?" Celin asked in surprise, "Didn't you hear what sir said?"

"Yes, I heard what sir said," Elano said, again uncharacteristically harsh, "He called you a liability. And he spoke the truth, and you have to expect that."

Celin opened and closed his mouth like a goldfish; he was rendered speechless by Elano's harsh words. Before he had time to react, Elano jumped headlong into the conversation.

"It hurts me to say these things to you," he said earnestly, "But someone must, and since sir never will, it's been left to me. The fact is, you are a liability in a dangerous situation. And you have to accept that-"

"Where do you get off telling me what I have to or don't have to accept?" Celin asked angrily, finally getting his voice back, "How dare you say such things to me? I thought you were my friend!"

"I am your friend," Elano said earnestly, "That's the only reason I bothered to work up the courage to tell you this. A day will come when you are a trained teacher, and sir will rely on you to act responsibly. And then-"

"You're saying I can't act responsibly?" Celin interrupted, highly incensed.

"Yes, I'm saying exactly that," Elano answered, looking his friend in the eye, "And I will keep saying that until the day that sir ceases to ask me to keep an eye on you every time he goes away. Do you _realize_ how much of a bother it is, keeping track of you?"

"What, isn't it enough for sir to call me a 'liability?' Do _you_ have to rub it in by calling me a 'bother' as well?" Celin asked, his anger changing to hurt. Elano had never talked to him like this before, and he was both surprised and dismayed by his words.

Elano sighed through his nose, "Look, Celin," he said earnestly, "I don't like saying these things, but they need to be said. Today, I wanted to go with sir so I could heal those who were harmed by the spiders. But I realized; that aside from having to keep an eye on you, I would _also_ be a liability to sir. I'm not exactly a wonderful swordsman or archer, and if I got hurt, I wouldn't have been able to heal anyone. So I didn't protest about having to stay."

"Your point being?"

"My point being that there will be days on which you have to make decisions with no one to guide you, and you need to be able to make decisions which do not make yourself a hindrance, but useful, if possible. You have to accept that your problem with your ankle not going away. Otherwise, you will never be able to be a good teacher _or_ a good student."

Celin was about to protest, when he suddenly remembered something. When Ivana had been stabbed in the stomach, Legolas had wanted to go and find Aragorn to heal her, but was torn because he knew his true duty lay in remaining with the students because of the danger from orcs. If Elano hadn't revealed himself to be an adult then, he would have made the decision to stay, even though it would probably mean that Ivana would die.

Sometimes, you just had to be clinical, Celin's conscience whispered; you had to accept the limitations of a situation and get past them. And, if possible, do it with a cheerful face. Finally, he understood what Elano was trying to tell him. And although he could have thought of many better ways in which to convey it, he was grateful that Elano had opened his eyes to what he was fast becoming; an over-sensitive and moody teenagers whose touchiness was making him a right nuisance.

"You're right," he said after a long silence, taking Elano by surprise.

"That was fast," the older said, with a slight frown, "I thought it was going to take a lot longer to convince you."

Celin looked down.

"I'm sorry I was so harsh," Elano said gently.

"I'm the one who should be sorry."

There was a pause while Celin studied the floor. Elano squeezed his friend's shoulder. "Now don't sit moping about like an old man," he said, gently, "Why don't you organize dinner for tonight? It will keep you preoccupied. You can go and start gathering firewood right now."

Celin rose and began to climb down, grateful to have something to do. "Thank you, Elano," he said, and then his head descended below Elano's line of sight.

Elano smiled to himself, watching the place where his friend's head had been a minute ago. Somehow, he knew that from that moment onward, Legolas would never have opportunity to call Celin a 'liability' ever again.

…

Legolas sighed, so lost in thought that he almost forgot where he was going. He had just potentially ruined his relationship with Celin, whom he was very fond of, and whom, more importantly, someone with whom it had taken a very, very long time to build a relationship with in the first place. He wondered if the boy would ever talk to him again. He mentally berated himself yet again. What had possessed him to talk like that?

Suddenly he felt the wind knocked out of him. He looked down, and saw that he had walked bang smack into Linnor. All thoughts of Celin flew from his mind as he saw her tear-stained face.

"Are you alright?" he asked, gripping her shoulders tightly, and forcing her to sit down on an old tree stump.

She didn't bother to reply.

He sighed. "Linnor, let me assure you, I have _enough _antidote with me," he said, getting down on one knee and looking her straight in the eye, "I have planned this whole thing through and through, and I assure you, there aren't half as many spiders as either of us thought there were. It isn't like you to refuse to see reason, Linnor. You know as well as I do that living in Mirkwood, you have to learn to defend yourself from spiders, don't you?"

She nodded reluctantly.

"Then why is it that you can't bring yourself to do this? What is the real reason you're so terrified?"

She didn't say anything. She did not want to reply.

"Linnor. If you don't tell me what's wrong, I won't be able to help you."

"Who says I need help?" she said half-heartedly.

"Lin-nor."

"What do you want me to say, sir?" Linnor said, frustrated that she could not make him understand, "I'm terrified of spiders, because every time I see them, I see you bent over double, throwing up? Because every time I even think about them, all that I can think of is you, lying on the floor of that clearing, and I know I would have been responsible for your death if you hadn't spotted that antidote," her voice shook and her tears began to flow in earnest, "Every time anyone even mentions spiders I wonder what would have happened if you had died that day. I wonder where we all would have been…where Ivana, Elano, and this kingdom would have been if it had lost its heir."

Legolas looked at her, stunned. So this was the true root of her fears. For the past six months, she had tortured herself with thoughts like these? He did not know what to say. How could she hold herself responsible? If there was any blame for the situation, it was his for letting her sneak away unnoticed, and he told her so.

She shook her head in frustration, "There you go again, sir. Treating us like children. _I_ made the decision to sulk and storm away that day, and _I_ should be held responsible for that decision, not you."

"Alright. Agreed. You shouldn't have slipped away, and you were responsible for that decision," Legolas retorted, "But nor can you blame yourself for what happened to _me_! How could you have known you were going to happen upon a lair of spiders? How could you have known that I would come and rescued you- and I wouldn't have, if I hadn't noticed your absence in time- and be bitten by spiders?"

"I know. I've told myself that a million times, but it still doesn't get better."

"You've been hiding it all this time?" Legolas asked, privately horrified that the girl's young mind had held such dark thoughts of guilt, unknown to him. He cursed himself now for not talking to her about what had happened.

"Yes. Although, I was able to ignore it until today."

There was a long pause, and then Legolas said in a very deliberate voice, "You know, Linnor, I have a lot to thank you for."

"What?" Linnor didn't understand what this had to do with spiders.

"If you hadn't overheard my conversation with Ivana last year, I would probably be in prison, and she would be dead. And my father would be virtually childless."

"But sir, that's ridiculous!" Linnor stammered, "I was just at the right place at the right time! Anyone in my place would have done the same!"

"Exactly!" Legolas snapped his fingers, "Just as you don't deserve my undying gratitude for something that happened due to circumstance, you don't deserve to feel guilt for this, either. Your running into spiders was caused by chance circumstance. Nothing _else_, Linnor. So please, for all our sakes, stop blaming yourself."

There was another long silence. Linnor looked at the floor, tears dripping down her face, and Legolas looked straight at her hunched form, willing her to be reasonable. Finally she looked up.

"You're right, as usual," she said abruptly. Then, "I'll go with you."

Legolas stared at her. This was rather strange. Far too abrupt. Linnor was usually very stubborn, and her accepting this so fast was the last thing he had expected. But what could he say? Now he didn't know if she was tired of arguing and was therefore lying to him, or if she really had stopped blaming herself in a thirty-second interval.

"Thank you," he said at last, "I…I hope this conversation will be the last of its kind. You can't keep living in a world of what-ifs. It's not healthy, and it's completely pointless. I hope I don't have to remind you of that ever again."

"I'll get packed," she said, almost as if she had ignored his statement completely, and walked away.

Legolas gazed after her, wondering what was going through her head. He was very, very puzzled by her behavior. And, he vowed, he was going to keep an eye on her. Something was still very, very wrong, and he was determined to find out what.

…

TBC…

Many thanks for your support. My apologies for the lateness of the post. Love you all, please review!


	7. Spiders and Praises

Title: Until We Reach Valinor

Chapter 7: Spiders and Praises

NOTE: This story is sequel to "A Teacher's Duty" and you'll have to read that one first to understand this one. Also, this story does _not_ contain slash, and it is _not_ a romance, despite what the first chapter might suggest.

SPECIAL THANKS to Orlando's Sweetheart for helping me pick the name of the woman, and the title to this story. Your help is much appreciated, thanks a lot.

…

"You have all fared very well," Legolas said, praising the crowd of exhausted teenagers sitting or lying in various positions on the forest floor. "In fact, your batch is one of the only batches who got out without a serious injury, so you should be doubly happy."

There was a murmur exhausted cheering from the prone figures of the nine children who had just braved the spiders. Legolas frowned worriedly; he did not like to see them so tired. "Now, are you quite sure none of you were bitten?" he asked, "Or injured in anyway? Even if it was a small cut, the spider venom-"

"Nooo _sirrrr_, we weren't bitten; we're _soooooo _sorry to disappoint you," they chanted in a sing-song voice, making him smile in amusement. Although they were always irritated by it, he could not help but be concerned about them in situations like this.

"Alright," he said a moment later, "Last batch, prepare yourselves, please."

He tried to keep the foreboding tone out of his voice, but couldn't quite manage it. Now he wondered if it had been wise to put Linnor in the last batch. He had done so with the reasoning that by the time the last batch had their turn, there would be far fewer spiders to deal with, making the situation slightly less dangerous for the terror-struck Linnor. But, now that he thought about it, putting her last had meant that she had to hear the screams and yells echoing again and again through the glade, and had to see all the bloodied, bruised and battered teenagers emerge exhausted from the clearing. If that wasn't frightening for a person who was already terrified of spiders, what was?

He watched Linnor closely. Her face was white….with fear? Determination? He could not be sure, and this frightened him immensely. Linnor had always been so… _transparent_. Not as transparent as Celin, yes, but he could usually tell what was going on in her head just by looking at her face. Now…she was just so blank. As though she had just…_shut him out_. The thought that she was even capable of doing such a thing sent a shiver of apprehension down his spine.

"Now please remember what I told you, keep your formations and everything should go well." he told the group of children around him, particularly to Linnor. Some were apprehensive, one or two actually had a sliver of confidence sparkling in their eyes, but Linnor, the only girl in the batch, stood out as completely emotionless.

The others had sensed the situation. They all knew how _terrified_ Linnor was of spiders, and how much she was dreading the prospect of fighting them head on, and they were all either exchanging meaningful looks with each other, or trying to get in front of Linnor to protect her, or squeezing her shoulder or making some gesture of comfort in the hope of easing her. But she remained unmoved by everything and stared stonily at the entrance to the forest, making Legolas feel even more on edge. _What _was going on in that girl's head, he wondered for the millionth time. But of course he would have to wait for the answers.

"Ready?" he said, and nine hands flew to their sword hilts in preparation.

"Set." The silence around the clearing was penetrating.

"And…_enter_."

One by one, the nine of them plunged into the darkness of the hooded trees. But…what was _this!_

"Linnor! What are you doing? Have you gone out of your- _LINNOR_!" Legolas shouted in horror as the girl abandoned the formation the others had formed and plunged herself headlong into a whole _thicket_ of spiders. For a moment he was paralyzed with shocked.

He had expected her to scream, as she had done the last time, he had expected her to cry, or try to run outside, but he had _not _expected her to throw herself recklessly into the mouth of a cave from which spiders were emerging so fast that he could barely even _see _them.

His limbs surged into action as he saw the girl's face contort with pain at a bite. Not caring for anyone or anything else, he too dived among the spiders, albeit with a little more grace and skill than she had, and started finishing off the little black monsters surrounding her.

To his utter amazement, she did not move out of the way. In fact, to his increasing frustration, whether on purpose or not he could not begin to fathom, she kept getting in his way and insisting on killing those on whom he had set his sights.

"Linnor- _GET- OUT OF- THE WAY_!" He exclaimed as he dodged a rather intimidating set of fangs.

She made no reply, but continued to hack haphazardly at the oncoming flood of little black creatures. Wait, he told himself, it _wasn't_ a flood. He was so tense and worried that it just seemed that way. _Look closely at them_, he thought to himself; and almost immediately their number seemed to diminish. If he hadn't been so preoccupied, he would have smiled with satisfaction. Now that he was able to think clearly, it would be much easier to exterminate them. In spite of Linnor continually getting in his way, in a few minutes he had managed to drive the last spider back into its lair.

He looked around, breathing hard. He and Linnor were the only ones left in the glade; the others had wisely exited when they had seen what was happening. He was glad they had sense enough to know when not to fight, as if they had, it would have meant more people for him to worry about.

He looked at Linnor. She was panting. Her right hand was fisted at her left shoulder, which was bleeding slightly, and she was battered and bruised from head to toe. But there was a manic gleam in her eye which was distinctly unsettling, making him forget that she had been bitten and needed immediate attention.

"What on earth did you think you were doing?" he said, walking up to her and putting his hands on her shoulders. For some reason he did not have the heart to shout at her, even after what she had done. "You could have been killed!"

She did not reply, just looked at him; and the same gleam shone in her eyes, prompting him to ask her once again, more urgently, "Linnor, what were you _doing!_"

"Avenging you," she whispered, and before the astounded Elf could even absorb this, she crumpled to the floor in a silent heap.

…

Legolas looked at Elano's taut face with some amount of trepidation. "How is she?" He asked worriedly.

He took a moment to reply. "She's been better."

"Will she be alright?" The teacher asked worriedly.

"That's the part that worries me," The Elf said grimly. "You did everything right. You gave her the tincture. You gave her some poppy juice, but that shouldn't have kept her asleep for long. She should be awake by now. She should have been awake a long time ago, actually. She was only bitten twice, thank goodness, so she should have been up the same day she'd been bitten. And two days have already passed…"

"I know, Elano," He said, staring down at her still form. "I was bitten four times, and I didn't even feel _faint_. And she…" He stared down at her, hating the terrifying familiarity of the situation. Had he not had this same conversation with Elano last year, in the same place, only then, it had been about Ivana? What was it about these hunting trips; that somebody or other always ended up gravely injured every time he decided to go on one with his class of half-baked teenagers?

Elano glanced at his tired, worried expression, and was reminded that his teacher hadn't had a wink of sleep in the past two days. "I wouldn't worry, sir," he tried to comfort him, and then, at the incredulous look he received, he added, "I mean about her fainting. That in _itself_ isn't surprising. She was terrified to begin with, and those bites must have sent her into shock. What we have to worry about is why she isn't awake _yet_."

"Is there no way we could wake her up?" Legolas asked, desperate.

"I doubt that would be wise, sir."

There was a pause. The wind whispered in the canopy of leaves and branches around them. The tree house swayed gently, rhythmically, like a ship at sea.

"Elano, she's not dying, is she?" Legolas asked fearfully.

"No. She's not." Elano assured his teacher, though he was slightly little dismayed by his pessimism, "That much I can promise you."

"_That's_ a relief, anyway," Legolas breathed.

"Sir, you worry too much," Elano said earnestly, "_Everything _does not _always_ have to be a life and death situation. This is not as serious as some of the situations we've been in. At least this time you're not worried about going to prison; you know no one would dream of letting the fact that Linnor got hurt leak out of the knowledge of this class."

"I wasn't even _thinking_ about that," Legolas said, marveling at himself, "I just…took it for granted right from the beginning."

"As you should. After all you've done for me and those children, do you really think you deserve any less?"

"That's what scares me sometimes," Legolas sighed heavily, "You thinking like that. I think all of you care about me entirely _too_ much," He paused and then said in an undertone, "Just before she collapsed, I asked Linnor why she had acted so recklessly."

"And?" Elano asked, his stomach tightening slightly.

"She said it was to avenge me."

Elano did not speak for a moment. The information was truly a shock, and he did not quite know how he was to react to it.

"Sir," He said finally, "It is not my place to tell you what to say to Linnor, as that concerns you and her alone," He paused, and Legolas smiled gratefully at him for being so tactful. "But I can tell you this much with conviction. As for us caring too much about you, it is nothing, _nothing_ compared to how much you care about us."

"Elano…"

"No, sir. You have endured torture, poison, and a month without sleeping for our sakes. And don't say it was your duty as your teacher," he added as Legolas opened his mouth to protest, "Because that would be a lie. You are also the heir of Greenwood, and the heir of any country would know not to jeopardize his life for some small, insignificant group of children, but _you_ do, because you care about us. The amount you care for us is much more frightening than the amount we care for you."

"That's only because a lot more is at stake in my case, although I would not have it that way."

"With all due respect sir; that's what makes it so frightening."

Legolas was silent for a moment. Then he said, with a small sigh, "Valar knows what I would do without you Elano. Somehow, you always make me see reason. If it wasn't for you, I don't know where we'd all be by now."

"You flatter me, sir," Elano said, mildly embarrassed.

"No, I don't," Legolas said earnestly, "You are the best friend, the best student, and the best confidante anyone could ever ask for. That thing with Celin- I would _never _have had the courage to say what you said to him."

"Oh, you found out about that, did you?" Elano said, now sounding thoroughly embarrassed.

"Yes. Celin told me when he accosted me with his burnt dinner yesterday. Although it was almost _completely_ unpalatable, the news that he was no longer hurt by my words actually induced me to eat it."

"He _told_ you?" Elano said in surprise.

"Not at first, no, he did not. All he said was that I would not have to worry about him anymore, that he would not behave irresponsibly from now onward. Naturally I was amazed. I asked him what in the world had changed his mind, and he wouldn't tell me for the longest time, but I managed to pry it out of him. The moment he mentioned your name I guessed what had happened. I didn't have a chance to thank you because of the whole situation with Linnor."

"It was nothing, sir. I'm sure you would have done the same for me."

"No, it wasn't nothing, Elano, and you put _far_ too much faith in me. If you and Celin had a falling out, and I had to speak to Celin the way you did…"

"Then you would say and do exactly what I did."

"Maybe so, but not _half_ as unhesitatingly as you. And besides, even if I did have to give him such brutal honesty, I wouldn't be risking losing my best friend, like you did.

"Sir…"

"No Elano, I'll keep quiet after you let me finish what I'm saying, but not a second before. I need to say this, even if you don't need to hear it. You risked a lot talking to Celin like that. If things had turned out only a little bit differently, you could have lost your closest friend. And I know how much that means to you Elano. Promise me you'll never risk something like that again, even for my sake."

"_Alright_ sir, I promise, now can we please get off this topic of conversation?" Elano was getting thoroughly sick of hearing his praises sung.

"If you insist. You know, sometimes I don't think you appreciate yourself enough?"

"_Sir._"

Legolas was about to say something more when he was interrupted by a movement from Linnor's bedroll. He was by her side in less than a second.

"Linnor!"

He hesitated for a moment; then pushed a strand of hair back from her face with hesitating fingers. He waited with bated breath as her eyes opened slowly.

"Linnor," he said again.

"Sir?" she asked dazedly.

"Yes, yes Linnor, it's me."

"What…?" She looked around confusedly; then sat up so suddenly that Legolas nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Linnor!" He exclaimed, "What do you-?"

"The spiders!" she exclaimed, "Did I manage to kill them? Did I manage to kill all of them!"

Legolas looked from her eager face, to Elano's and then at the wooden floor. "I think it would be best if you gave us a moment, Elano," he said in an undertone. The Elf nodded and disappeared without another word, leaving Legolas and Linnor alone together.

…

TBC…

Many thanks to my wonderful reviewers, and my apologies (again) for the lateness of this update, but I cannot really help it. College is driving me insane, you're lucky to get even this. Please review! Thanks!


	8. Second Chances

Title: Until We Reach Valinor

Chapter 8: Second Chances

NOTE: This story is sequel to "A Teacher's Duty" and you'll have to read that one first to understand this. Also, this story does _not_ contain slash, and it is _not_ a romance, despite what the first chapter might suggest.

SPECIAL THANKS to Orlando's Sweetheart for helping me pick the name of the woman Legolas's bride-to-be as well as the title of this story.

That said, on with the chapter.

…

Legolas sighed deeply. "Linnor…" He began, and broke off. For the first time in a very long time, he was at a loss for words. "I don't…know what to say…" He shrugged his shoulders hopelessly, "I don't know what you expect me to say. How… how could you be so…_stupid?_"

"You wouldn't understand, sir," Linnor said, a slight sullenness creeping into her usually tempered voice.

"Then make me understand," Legolas persisted, "I…I can't believe…I _talked_ to you Linnor! I told you not to do anything reckless! If you weren't convinced then, why didn't you _tell_ me!"

"Because…this was just something I needed to do! And I knew you wouldn't understand if I told you!"

"But I thought you understood it wasn't your fault that I got hurt last year!"

"I did understand that!" she exclaimed, "It's just…I realized that if it wasn't my fault, then it had to be the spiders' fault. By elimination."

"Do you have any idea how _ridiculous_ that sounds?" Legolas asked incredulously.

"No, but by the tone of your voice, sir, I can tell how ridiculous _you_ think it sounds." she said accusingly.

"Listen to me!" Legolas exclaimed, "When orcs kill people, people don't blame the orcs for it. So many of my friends have died at their hands, but I have never, ever tried to avenge them by swearing to kill every orc that exists. I'll kill the ones responsible for the deaths, I'll kill the people who sent the orcs, but it makes no sense just to suddenly swear vengeance on all orcs! It's in an orcs' nature to kill. Yes, you could hate it for that. But orcs were once Elves. Did you know that Linnor?"

She shook her head.

"Yes. They were deformed and mutilated by evil powers and made what they are today. They deserve pity, not hatred."

"But sir, if that's true, why are you even running this school? The only real enemies left to be eliminated on earth are the orcs. You said so yourself. That's the whole _point_ of this school."

"Linnor, it maybe our duty to kill them out of self-preservation, but that does not mean we have to _hate_ them. And by that I mean, hate them especially. _Everyone_ hates orcs and spiders because of what they are by nature. But as long as that hatred doesn't cause them to put themselves in undue, _unnecessary_ danger-"

"Sir, you cannot liken an orc to a spider! It simply isn't-" Linnor began.

"Why, Linnor, which would you say is worse?" Legolas interrupted her.

"The orcs, of course," she said in surprise, "Sir, it's not as though-"

"I never know with you, Linnor. You've been so stubborn lately. Sometimes I wonder how someone as sensitive and tactful as you cannot understand that your hatred for the spiders is born out of the guilt you still feel for what happened last year. _Despite_ the fact that I told you it wasn't your fault."

"I am not feeling guilty!" Linnor shouted, startling Legolas with the force of her anger, "Why must you always be so-?" She cut herself off before she said something she would regret, contenting herself with glaring herself.

"Did it feel good then?" Legolas asked after a pause loaded with tension, "Did you feel as though you'd finally battled your demons when you hacked at those spiders for all you were worth?"

"Yes," Linnor said defiantly.

Legolas looked at her with a questioning expression. She looked down.

"No," she admitted in a low voice.

Legolas studied her for a moment. "Are you being honest with me?" He asked her, "Do you really mean that?"

"Yes, I do, sir." she answered, looking him straight in the eye.

"If I let this matter go now," Legolas said, treading cautiously, "Can you promise me that you will never behave so recklessly again? Can you promise me that you will stop _blaming _yourself for something which is not your fault?"

"The former I can promise you," She replied, "I know I was reckless. I could have probably done a lot more good and learnt a lot more by staying in formation. But something in me snapped when I saw those spiders."

"Is it going to snap again?" Legolas asked her.

"I don't think so, sir. But I can't be sure. And I don't know if I can stop blaming myself. Or if I have already."

Legolas sighed, "Is that the best answer I'm going to get from you at the moment?"

"I'm afraid it is, sir. I need some time to think about this and…recover."

"I understand," Legolas said, though he didn't, not really. He rose, and calling Elano up to sit by Linnor, climbed down. He sensed that Linnor needed some time alone, and although he was hardly satisfied by the outcome of their conversation, he was willing to wait and see how this would all turn out.

…

Elano watched his teacher with some concern. He had been silent and worried all day. Twice Elano had tried to convince him to rest, and both times Legolas had waved his persuasions away. Elano's eyes followed his restless movements as he paced up and down. He had been doing so for the last two hours. It was time for a confrontation.

"Sir?" He said tentatively.

"Yes, Elano?"

"You seem to be waiting for something," Elano said, broaching the subject tentatively.

Legolas saw through the attempt and gave the Elf a wry smile, "Yes, it is something Linnor said to me, and no, I'm not going to go to sleep on it." He told Elano, who blushed slightly at how well the teacher had managed to read him.

"It's just…"

"I know," Legolas cut him off, "You're worried about me. I can read it in your face. But I'm worried about Linnor, and at the moment, that's all I can think about."

"That's the problem with you, sir," Elano sighed in frustration, "When will you ever start thinking about yourself?"

"Am I supposed to answer that question?"

"No, but you can answer _this_ question. _Why_ are you worried about Linnor? She'll come around. You should have faith in her good sense."

"I did before, just two days ago, and look where that got us."

"You should give her another chance," Elano said earnestly, "Everyone deserves one, and Linnor most of all. Last year, she was the first to have faith in _you_. She gave you a second chance, and you did not disappoint her. She won't disappoint you either. Just give her a chance."

"Where do second chances come into the picture?" He asked, "It's not as though we're going to go to attack spiders every other day. Most likely, the next time I'll know if she still blames herself for what happened last year will be years and years into the future when she goes and gets herself killed. Because I won't be there. I can't follow her about _all_ her life. I need to _know_ if she's stopped blaming herself after what happened."

"Sir, you misunderstand me," Elano answered, "I don't mean giving her a second chance to 'prove herself' to you again. I'm just asking you not to treat her any differently than you've been doing up to this point. I know you well enough to know that you've already done your best with her. Now just leave it be. Stop worrying. Act as though this didn't happen."

"I can't."

"You're not going to get an answer from her today or tomorrow or even next month. She has to answer herself first, and doing so will take time. Give her that time, go about your life as you would normally, treat her just the same as you've always done, and one day, be it tomorrow or a decade from now, you'll know her answer."

"I don't know if I can wait that long."

"For Valar's sake, if you don't give it time you might pressure her into saying something she doesn't mean! Are you willing to pay that price in the future just so you can hear a hasty answer now?"

"No" Legolas sighed deeply, "I wish you did not put things into perspective quite so well Elano. You always manage to leave me with no option."

"Sir, I'm only trying to-"

"I know that. It's just…it's not easy to confront, having to…to…"

"To let go?"

"Yes. To let go. Exactly," He shook his head regretfully.

"It never is easy, sir. But it has to be done. If you don't do this now, you'll regret it for the rest of your life. And I think you know that, in your heart."

"I do know that," Legolas said softly, "You don't have to tell me."

He thought he should say something more, but couldn't. Words had failed him for the second time that day. And perhaps, that was for the best, he thought to himself as he stared in the direction of the tree house with distant eyes. For what more was there left to say?

…

"Sir?" Linnor asked sleepily. It was morning, and she had woken up to find him staring down at her as though with a queer expression on his face which she couldn't quite place.

"Good morning, Linnor." He squatted down beside her, "How are you feeling?"

"Well enough, I suppose," she said warily, expecting him to ask her if she had made up her mind, which she hadn't.

"Well enough to enjoy a short holiday?" he asked instead.

"What, sir?" Linnor asked, confused.

"I decided that since my little…_experiment_…with the spiders was such a success, I could well afford to give you an off until we return home. Soon enough, you'll be studying for your graduation. You all deserve a break. Especially since most of you fared so well."

Linnor stared at him in undisguised amazement, "Fared so well, sir?" What in the _world _was he talking about? She had behaved so recklessly, she'd made a complete mess of _everything_, and he was talking about having a holiday?

"Yes," Legolas said surprisingly, "Wouldn't you call fifty-five people out of seventy-two being able to hold their own against an army of spiders without help a success?"

Linnor just gaped at him.

"You're not the only one by whom I measure my successes in the class, Linnor," he said, clarifying things for her as he chose to leave, "Even if not for you, fifty-five out seventy-two is a fairly lofty majority. I still call it a success. And for that reason, I think everyone deserves a holiday."

Linnor had finally understood the motive behind his detached words. He was giving her time; time to make up her mind, and in the meantime speaking to her just as he would normally. Her heart swelled with gratitude.

"Thank you sir," she said softly as he climbed down.

"You're more than welcome," he answered, and although he wasn't satisfied, he knew he had done the right thing.

…

TBC…

So sorry for the lateness of this chapter! Have had a hectic exam week which has driven me literally insane. Luckily, I came out of it in one piece. However, with two more mocks coming up in April and a final CIE exam in May, I wouldn't expect quick updates from me for a while yet.

Many thanks to my reviewers! If you're interested, I've written a War of the Worlds (movie) one-shot fic called "No Easy Answers." About Ray and the aftermath of the alien invasion. Read it, but only if you've seen the movie, or it won't make sense to you. Cheers!


	9. Graduation

Title: Until We Reach Valinor

Chapter 9: Graduation

NOTE: This story is sequel to "A Teacher's Duty" and you'll have to read that one first to understand this one. Also, this story does _not_ contain slash, and it is _not_ a romance, despite what the first chapter might suggest.

SPECIAL THANKS: to Orlando's Sweetheart for helping me pick the name of the woman, and the title to this story. Help is much appreciated, thanks a lot.

That said, I'll let you read in peace.

…

The week before graduation was one of the most eventful Legolas had ever experienced at the school. Everyone was tense, irritable, and in some cases, cranky due to lack of sleep. Legolas too became increasingly harried as people would continually keep bursting into his room at all hours of the day demanding him to show them how to do a move or to re-teach them forgotten lessons.

After a particularly embarrassing incident where Aurél had burst into his room forgetting to knock, catching him in his nightshirt, he put up a sign on his door saying "Indisposed" whenever he was asleep or resting or pursuing something he did not want the children to walk in on. He was patient, but he could hardly be expected to stand that kind of embarrassment.

The ones who had studied the most throughout the year were, paradoxically, the most tensed and nervous. Celin, who would have sailed through the test with flying colors whether or not he studied, spent his days pacing up and down the corridors of the palace muttering to himself the names and descriptions of all the different types of combat methods the children were supposed to know.

Once Legolas heard him complain to Elgalad, "I studied so much today that my feet are hurting!" at which he could not suppress a smile. The sentence sounded absurd, yet was probably perfectly true, because Celin had spent the entire day pacing up and down with barely any pause for rest. In fact, his classmates kept chasing him away from their rooms (whenever he happened to wander in) saying that watching him made them feel giddy.

If anyone dared interrupt him while he was studying, he would scowl so furiously that he would end up sending them scurrying for cover. On one occasion, he wasn't looking where he was going and turned a corner so fast that he walked right into Legolas, who was on his way to meet another student for extra revision in one of the classrooms.

"Celin!" Legolas gasped, winded, "What in the world-?"

"Sorry, sir!" The boy was gone before the teacher could even bat an eyelid.

Shaking his head in amazement, Legolas made his way to his lesson, which was an unprecedented disaster that ended with the student rushing out of the classroom wailing that she was failing the next day's test, and her parents would skin her alive, and goodbye everyone, I'm going to be dead by tomorrow evening. Since she was actually quite a good student who had not needed the extra lesson expect for her own peace of mind, Legolas found this, again, extremely odd. But he had never studied for a test like this in his childhood, so he could hardly pass judgment on others.

On the evening before the graduation, Legolas went to his room, hoping to get a bit of rest. But even though he put his "Indisposed" sign up, people kept banging on the door until late at night with such frantic urgency that he could not, in good conscience, ignore them. Especially since everyone seemed to be convinced that their problem, however small, was an emergency tantamount to a life-threatening crisis.

Thoroughly irritated, he would prowl around the corridors at regular intervals of the night to ensure that all the students were asleep. Invariably, he would catch somebody or the other who was trying to study late against the rules, chastise them thoroughly, and send them packing off to bed with the promise of dire punishments, which everybody involved knew he never meant to carry out as he just did not have the heart.

On the night before the graduation, he lay awake and smiled to himself as he pictured them distinguishing themselves before the King. He had never had any ambitions for himself, except the logical one of reaching his potential in whatever it was he pursued, but for them…he had such ambitions for them that kept him from sleeping peacefully all night. Instead, he spent half the night thinking about how much he had enjoyed teaching his very first, Batch of 3026-27, and how much he would miss them when they were gone.

…

The morning of the graduation dawned fresh and beautiful. The temperament of Legolas's students, however, was neither fresh, nor beautiful, nor anything remotely resembling anything connoting enthusiasm or confidence. They were all on tenterhooks, and many of them were moaning that they were going to fail.

When Legolas met them in the palace grounds, they were all practicing moves, or frantically reading from sheaves of scrawled handwriting, or else engaging each other in the oddest, most amusing conversations he had ever heard. Which was saying something, because being around teenagers all day, he had heard his share of nonsensical conversations.

"Will you do me a favor?" Legolas overheard Elgalad say to Pilinel.

"What?" Pilinel said, without looking up from what he was reading.

"Please kill me," Elgalad said in a tone which was comically tragic, "Spare me from all this studying. I honestly don't want to live anymore."

"Only if you kill me first, mellonamin," Pilinel said with a faint grin, "But you seem to have forgotten that someone has to kill me, first. If I kill you, then who will kill me?"

"Ask sir, I'm sure he'd be happy to oblige," Elgalad said seeing the teacher near by, "I'm sure he'd be glad to be rid of us."

"I would, Elgalad, but I don't think your classmates would like it very much if you both died." Legolas said, his lips quirking in amusement.

"Please, speak for yourself, sir," Celin muttered, hearing the last bit as he passed them in his incessant pacing, "I would personally be delighted if these two killed each other. Then at least they wouldn't make so much noise while I'm trying to study." He glared at the pair of them and resumed pacing, muttering incoherently to himself and referring at brief intervals to the papers in his hands.

Elgalad looked ready to fly after Celin, but Legolas laid a cool, restraining hand on his shoulder, "Leave it," he said softly, "He was joking."

"I _know_ that, sir," Elgalad told him, "I was just carrying the joke on a bit further. I know he wasn't being serious."

"I can guarantee you if you do fly after him, he _will_ be serious," Legolas said, "In fact, he might just end up doing the favor you asked of Pilinel."

"I'd be indebted to him for life, then," Elgalad went back to his studies with a rather gloomy look.

Legolas shook his head in amused amazement and made his way to the front of the class. Then, turning to face them, he clapped his hands and called for their attention.

It was awhile before he could get them to be silent. "Now," he said, when they had finally quieted down, "I know you are all tensed about today's test. But the King and all your parents will all be arriving shortly. I need you to put away your weapons and your notes and help me-"

But he was cut off by an outraged howl of protest, "Sir! We'll fail!" everyone yelled.

"Now listen to me," Legolas said in a tone that brokered no argument, "You are all _brilliant_ at fighting. More importantly, you have all studied _hard_ for this. You don't need anymore revision, and even if you did, you would hardly be able to get anything into your heads now, two hours before the test. So stop acting ridiculous, put everything away, and come back here so I can address a few words to you."

There was a mumble of half-hearted protest. They had seen his point, but were not willing to admit it. With many dirty looks, they put away their things before gathering before him with a questioning air.

He took a deep breath. He had not planned on doing this now, but somehow, he felt the occasion called for it. "This is the last time you will all be standing here together before me as a class," he said earnestly, "And I want to tell all of you that I am very proud of everything you have become and achieved in this year, and that whatever you score on today's test, you can never mean any less to me. Just do your best; and no one can ever have any complaints of you. Understand?"

There was a mumble of assent. Everyone immediately felt slightly less on edge. Legolas smiled slightly as his words had their desired effect.

"Now please go to the front and check that all three marquees are up properly, and make sure the targets are at the right distance, and see that all the swords are sliding out of their sheaths without any trouble," Legolas instructed them, "And do it quickly, please, because I think I heard hooves."

Everyone sped off, and he looked after them fondly.

"I thought that speech was going to be reserved for tonight, sir," said Elano's voice from beside him.

"Oh, I _am_ going to give them a speech tonight," Legolas said in answer, "It's just that I thought their morale needed a bit of boosting."

Elano nodded, accepting this. They walked on for awhile in silence. Then as they were nearing the stables, Elano asked suddenly, "Any idea what you will say to them tonight?"

"No. I tried to write it, but somehow, I can't seem to…" Legolas's voice trailed off and he shook his head, "It really is ridiculous. I should be able to prepare a simple speech!"

Elano gave him a very knowing, meaningful look and then smiled, as though amused by something.

"What?" Legolas asked him in surprise

"Nothing, sir," Elano said, trying and failing to suppress his smile.

"_What?_" Legolas asked again.

Elano shook his head, gave him a brief smile again and then walked quickly after the children. Legolas looked after him, puzzled. _What on earth?_ He wondered, and then shook his head dismissively and began walking after the children. Whatever it was, he would find out soon enough; Elano's expression had told him as much. Right now, he had better things to worry about Elano and his enigmatic smiles.

…

Legolas glanced around the grounds one last time to check that everything was according to plan. His father was seated under the smaller, royal marquee, the children were under their larger one, and the parents of the children were all seated under the largest. He heaved a sigh of relief; he had been slightly nervous that he had over-estimated the number of parents coming, but he hadn't.

All the targets also seemed to be accurately place. The sheathed swords were lying on either side of the King's throne, as were the quivers, bows and arrows. Legolas hoped the children would not forget to bow to Thranduil when they came to fetch their weapons. He walked towards the children who were all looking green with nervousness and wished them luck. It did not seem to help much. Resigned, he went to sit beside his father, bowing to him as Mirkwood etiquette required before doing so.

"It's good to see you again," Thranduil whispered to his son, "You weren't there when I came in. I've been waiting to talk to you all day."

"My apologies, _ada_," Legolas replied, "I've been busy with all the preparations."

"And you've done a wonderful job."

"Thank you."

"I've arranged for your meeting with Alanna tomorrow evening."

Legolas winced inwardly. He had nearly forgotten about that. Or at least, he had tried to. "For what time, father?" He asked, trying not to sound as though he were dreading it.

"For dinner. You'll be spending a night in her house."

"_What!_" Legolas said in a horrified whisper.

"In a guest bedroom, of course," Thranduil replied, and then when Legolas's expression did not change, "How else do you expect to get to know her?" Thranduil retorted.

"But…"

Thranduil gave him a Look.

"You could have at least warned me," Legolas muttered, glaring daggers at the bull's eye of one of the targets.

Thranduil gave him another Look, but thankfully changed the subject. "Your students look nervous."

"Yes, they do. I hope it doesn't affect their performance," Legolas answered, a worried look on his face.

Thranduil said something inconsequential in reply, and they were silent for a time.

Then, "King Elessar should have been here, though. This is his school as well as yours, and it reflects badly that he isn't here."

"_Ada,_ he too runs a Kingdom," Legolas said, springing to Aragorn's defense, "He says there is some business in Gondor from which he cannot be spared."

"I know that Legolas. I'm just looking at it from the perspective of the people. It's my job to do that, as King. And it will be yours too, soon," He added in an undertone.

Legolas gave him a wry look that seemed to say, _point taken._

Thranduil was about to say something more, but there was a sudden hush across the grounds which cut him off. The herald had risen from his seat and was making his way across the grounds. Legolas's stomach did a summersault as the man stopped and bowed before the King.

"Azverlet, Ananya," was announced to be the first to be tested, after the audience were greeted and had bowed to the King, and the children were introduced collectively, also having to bow to the King. Legolas watched as Ananya rose from her seat, looking terrified, but determined.

_It was time._

…

TBC…

I thoroughly enjoyed writing this chapter, probably because much of it is from personal experience. Celin's method of studying is the same as mine (in fact I think there are days before the exam when I never sit down!) and that line about 'I've studied so hard that my feet are hurting' is also one of mine (I say it at least once before any exam. And let me tell you, your feet actually do hurt when you spend the whole day walking around your room). The conversation between Elgalad and Pilinel about killing each other is something I overheard a couple of my friends saying before our tenth finals last year.

It was also really interesting to look at exam time from the point of view of a teacher for once. Most of the time, we're always looking at it from our point of view, and how much work we have and all the rest of it, so it was fun to go the other way around.

I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. The story is going to start picking up from now on, and Alanna will also be making her entry into the story somewhere in the next two or three chapters. Must dash! Have to (groans disbelievingly) study! Please review and tell me what you thought about this chapter!


	10. Precious Moments

Title: Until We Reach Valinor

Chapter 10: Precious Moments

NOTE: This story is sequel to "A Teacher's Duty" and you'll have to read that one first to understand this one. Also, this story does _not_ contain slash, and it is _not_ a romance, despite what the first chapter might suggest.

SPECIAL THANKS: to Orlando's Sweetheart for helping me pick the name of the woman, and the title to this story. Help is much appreciated, thanks a lot.

That said, I'll let you read in peace.

…

Ananya looked tall and graceful as she came to a stop before the King. The terror on her face had been replaced by determination. Legolas relaxed slightly. If she didn't allow herself to be cowed by the situation, Ananya would do very well indeed, as she was one the most skilled in his class. She bowed low before Thranduil and Legolas, who also inclined their heads slightly in acknowledgement.

There was a tense silence. Then, "Suppose we start with the fifty-yard targets, young one."

Legolas winced at the patronizing tone in his father's calling the seventeen-year old "young one." He could sense a spot of indignation from the teenager as well, but luckily his father did not sense it, not knowing he had said anything to cause offence of any kind.

Wordlessly, though slightly stiffly, Ananya picked up the bow which suited her height and strength best, notched her arrow, took aim, and fired.

Legolas breathed a sigh of relief. The arrow had lodged itself on the outer rim of the bull's eye. His father looked suitably impressed, and gave Legolas a glance which told him so quite plainly. But when he spoke it was only to tell Ananya what to do next. Legolas nearly winced again; a little praise would not have been unwelcome. However, Thranduil did not often give praise unless he was truly impressed, so his lack of compliments was not surprising.

When Legolas had watched Ananya hit every target with reasonable accuracy, hold her own while sparring with the King, and answer all his questions about battle pans and strategies correctly, he dared to let a smile tug at his lips. At the end of the seven-minute test, when Ananya made a score of ninety-two percent, he thought Ananya had done him very proud.

At the end of the day, when all seventy-two of his students had passed, and almost all of these had passed with distinction, with Celin topping everyone with a whopping ninety-eight percent, he realized that what he'd felt after Ananya's performance was only the tip of the proverbial iceberg. In all his long years, he had never been more proud.

…

Legolas shook hands with each of the parents as they made their way into the banquet hall. Some of them gave him just a brief word and a thank you before heading for dinner, while others stopped and talked to him for minutes together.

His encounter with Celin's parents was one of the most memorable of the evening. Celin's mother, a graceful She-Elf called Aaliyah, grasped his hand in hers and thanked him; it seemed, from the bottom of her heart. 

"We've heard so much about you, my Lord," She said, dabbing at her eyes, which had been overflowing with joy ever since Celin's results had been announced, "Our son is continually singing your praises, which today I saw are very well-deserved."

Before Legolas could think of an appropriate response to this, Celin's father, Tathar, cut in, "And we would like to thank you, my Lord," he told him earnestly, "For not giving up on Celin when you found out about his ankle."

"I could hardly have given up on someone as talented as Celin," Legolas said.

"I know many who would have, My Lord. But…" the man hesitated, and Legolas nodded encouragingly, "You are really serious about making him a teacher at your school? You are not just…saying that? To humor him?"

"You needn't fear that at all. Of course I'm serious about training Celin to be a teacher," Legolas responded warmly, wanting to put them at their ease, "I would not just string him along if all I eventually had planned for him was to return home after he did his second-year graduation."

"Thank you, my Lord!" Aaliyah said eagerly, "You don't know how much this means to us. We have long feared that his ankle would prevent him from doing any real work!"

"He could have still become a healer or something in that line of work," Legolas pointed out, noting with distaste the emphasis she had laid on the word 'real.'"

"Oh, my Lord, you jest!" Tathar laughed slightly, "That is a woman's profession! My son could hardly take up my wife's work. Become a healer, indeed."

Legolas bit back the urge to argue. _This is what you are going to change when you become King_, he reminded himself. _There's no point in arguing now; they mean well._

He made a non-committal noise in his throat, and, soon after, to his relief, they had moved on for dinner and he was greeting Elgalad's parents. His mind wandered as he engaged in exchanging pleasantries with the parents, something he was growing increasingly more tired of. The conversation with Celin's parents had worried him. Clearly, Aaliyah and Tathar were sensible, loving parents who took pride in their son's achievements. But their attitudes were a little troubling. He wondered what would have become of Celin if he had not offered to train him to be a teacher. Now, he realized that at least part of the boy's motivation to excel came from the unconscious pressure his parents exerted on him.

_They must have been so disappointed when they learned about his ankle, _he mused, _It was irresponsible of them to send him to me last year, hoping they could deceive me because that ankle of his only plays up once every few months. When I found out, they must have been so disappointed, and when I offered to teach him later; so pleased._

They must have warned him, too, not to throw away his one chance at success, he realized. And yet the boy had questioned his teacher about whether the profession of teaching was a right choice for him. His admiration for Celin seemed to increase after every passing day. He was much more progressive in thought than his parents, in spite of having been brought up by them. After all, his best friend happened to be a male healer- exactly the kind of person Aaliyah and Tathar would disapprove of.

Legolas's thoughts were interrupted when he felt a hand press his shoulder gently. Hoping it was not another parent, he turned to find Elano's eyes which were alight with joy and pride. Elano took almost as much pleasure in the children's success as Legolas. Because his position in the school required playing both the dual roles of friend and disciplinarian when occasion required it, he was the one person who knew the class as well, if not better, than Legolas.

"Congratulations, sir," Elano said, smiling warmly.

"Don't congratulate me; congratulate the students, and yourself. I couldn't have done it without either of you," Legolas said, returning the smile.

"Sir," Elano said, flushing slightly, "It is you and the children who deserve to be congratulated tonight. Not me. Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm not," Legolas retorted, but refrained from singing Elano's praises further because he knew that would only make the Elf uncomfortable. He had never known anyone more averse to receiving compliments in his life.

They stood silently for a moment, each in their own thoughts. It had been a long day, and there was a lot to rejoice about and celebrate. Then Elano said, "Have you prepared your speech yet, sir?"

Legolas shook his head, some of the celebration leaving his eyes as his forehead creased into a frown, "No. I tried and tried, but I can't seem to find the words. I suppose I'll just…do it extempore."

Elano smiled again, the same way he had in the morning, and shook his head, looking half-incredulous, half-amused.

"What?" Legolas asked, noting the expression again.

"Nothing," Elano said, a slight twinkle in his eye.

"What do you mean, noth-?" Legolas began, but to his dismay, was interrupted.

"My Lord!"

Barely managing to stifle his groan, Legolas turned slowly and wearily to face yet another lot of overjoyed parents, wondering, as he did so, _when_ he would learn to enjoy socializing.

…

The banquet hall was the largest room in the entire school. For this occasion, it was equipped with two long tables, one seating all the parents, and another, smaller one, seating the students; Legolas; Elano and; of course, the King.

It was the first meal Legolas had ever had with his father where he, and not Thranduil, was sitting at the head of the table. The Elven Prince was not feeling at all comfortable with this arrangement, but his father had insisted.

"_You're_ the most honored person, on this occasion," he had told him firmly, "It was your efforts as a teacher, your school, and students which made this event a success. As you are the one who deserves the most credit for their success, you'll sit at the head of the table tonight."

"But father, you're the King!" Legolas had protested, "It will not be well received if I take your rightful place at the table's head."

"No. Not this time. I think everyone here, parents and students alike, respects and admire you too much to bother with such propriety. In fact, I'm sure they'd be more pleased with me if you and not I took the place at the table's head."

Legolas could hardly argue with the truth of this statement, so he sat down awkwardly, feeling as though everyone in the room had their eyes on him. It wasn't a very pleasant feeling, and since it was the first time he was experiencing it, he was feeling doubly uncomfortable.

To his left, Thranduil leaned across the table and whispered, "Are you making the toast now?"

Legolas swallowed down his nervousness, "Yes," he said.

Thranduil, with all the ease of someone practiced at giving speeches, took his silver spoon and touched it to the his wine glass lightly. The silvery sound was loud as a bell to all the Elvish ears in the room, who at once fell silent and looked at the King expectantly. Thranduil rose, and addressed a few words of congratulation to the students, and then sat down. Polite applause rang around the room.

Then it was Legolas's turn. He rose, and wondered why he was feeling so nervous. It was a completely alien emotion to him, and he felt as though he had lost all his self-control.

Trying to keep his hands from shaking, he tried to speak. The words caught in his throat. He cleared his throat softly, but to his ears, it sounded like the loudest sound in the world.

He took a deep breath. And froze. For the first time in his life, he was _completely_ at a loss for words. _Say something. Say anything_, he told himself, feeling panicky. _I should have planned this before hand_, he berated himself, as the silence seemed to stretch on endlessly. But what was he supposed to say? He wondered. How was he supposed to put in words what they meant to him? Wait, there was a start. _How was he supposed to put in words what they meant to him._ He prayed everything would come easily after that. Unfortunately, it did not.

"I don't know…" he faltered slightly, and then ploughed on bravely, "I don't know how to put in words what you mean to me." He paused. "I…" To his absolute horror, he felt emotion constricting his throat.

"Our time together has been…the best…" he tried to speak further, but found himself unable to, quite overcome by all his conflicting emotions. There was pride in their accomplishments, joy in their happiness, gratitude that he had come to know them as well as he had, and sorrow at the thought of parting with so many of them.

"Thank you," he said at last, unable to think of anything else, "Thank you…so much." He raised his glass with a shaking hand and drank to them, his Class of 3026-3027.

There was a long silence. Legolas became aware that no one had moved a muscle; they had not even raised their glasses. Everyone was too stunned; or too moved. _Or shocked into speechlessness that I, heir of Greenwood, cannot string to coherent words together and make a short, simple speech. _Legolas felt their eyes burning into his face, and he wished fervently that he could sink through the floor instead of standing there so awkwardly with flaming cheeks and trembling hands.

Then at long last, a small sound broke the unbearable silence. It was a single clap. Another clap followed it, then another. Then, a smattering of clapping. And then, the next thing Legolas knew, the whole room was ringing with the most thunderous applause he had ever heard. He sank down on his chair, not daring to look up until he had wrestled his emotions into a state of (relative) submission. When he did, he saw that most of his class was in tears. Even the boys were letting them fall; openly, unashamedly.

He felt a wave of relief crash over his head. They had understood what he had been unable to tell them in words. And they did not think him any less for not being able to say it. And he should not have expected them to, he realized. There was no shame in his incoherence, or his emotions. He knew it, and they knew it, and even if no one else understood, it was enough.

For the first time in his life, he did not feel ashamed to show emotion. The tears stood in his eyes unashamedly, and he did not blink them back. Instead he raised his glass once more (did they not deserve two toasts?) and drank deeply. This time, they joined him.

And when he finally sat down a few seconds after that, he felt Elano squeeze his shoulder gently. He turned to the Elf on his left, and saw his eyes lit with understanding.

"You knew that was going to happen, didn't you?" Legolas asked softly, with a sudden flash of understanding.

"Yes."

"_That's_ why you were asking me questions about the speech and smiling at like that."

"Yes."

"I didn't realize it myself. I've given speeches before, even a few extempore ones. I never thought that _this_ one would be hard for me."

"I know."

"And you didn't say anything because…?"

"Because," Elano said, looking him straight in the eye, "I didn't want to ruin one of the most special moments in your life by taking away the spontaneity from it."

Legolas paused. Elano was right. It _had_ been very special. More so, because his emotions had caught him by surprise.

"Thank you," he said suddenly, glad that Elano had not warned him. The moment had been...very precious, and he knew it would have been spoilt if he had prepared it from the start.

Elano didn't have to ask what he was being thanked for, nor did he say he was welcome. Knowing more words would only make Legolas feel awkward, he squeezed the teacher's shoulder gently, smiled again in understanding, and returned to his meal.

…

TBC…

I thoroughly enjoyed writing this chapter. While some of you might think (as I did at first) that it would be out-of-character for Legolas to become so emotional, especially when Linnor, Celin and Elano are all going to be there for the next year, I realized that while I only talk about Linnor and Celin in my stories, Legolas still loves the rest of them just as much, or almost as much. I write more about Linnor and Celin because they're the ones who have the most serious problems, but if this was a real school, that would not mean that Legolas did not share an equally loving relationship with the rest of him.

Also, the emotions at the farewell dinner were very similar to my own farewell last year, where students and teachers alike got REALLY emotional. I thought I would too, since I was going to leave that year, but fortunately I was so busy trying to make sure my saree wouldn't fall off (it was the first, and will be the last time I wore one) that I didn't really have time to cry much. LOL. But I know that people do get emotional during graduations and farewell dinners, so I tried to capture that in this chapter.

Thanks to my anonymous reviewers whom I could not reply to. Love you guys, and I'm glad to hear from Isilwen again. Pleased to find there's a teacher in our midst as well. Hope she isn't one of mine (you never know- it's a small world)! Anyway, it's nearing 12:30 and I have to rise with the sun tomorrow for college. Please review!


	11. His Future Wife

Title: Until We Reach Valinor

Chapter 11: His Future Wife

NOTE: This story is sequel to "A Teacher's Duty" and you'll have to read that one first to understand this. Also, this story does _not_ contain slash, and it is _not_ a romance, despite what the first chapter might suggest.

SPECIAL THANKS to Orlando's Sweetheart for helping me pick the name of the woman Legolas's bride-to-be as well as the title of this story.

That said, on with the chapter.

…

The night after the graduation passed like a dream. The palace was large enough to comfortably house all the parents, as well as the children and the King, so that night, for the first time, the rooms were full.

The parents, exhausted by the long day, fell asleep in record time. The King, too, was tired, both in mind and body, having sat straight and erect on a hard wooden chair all day trying to judge the students impartially and fairly, so he too fell asleep by ten o'clock.

The children, on the other hand, had never been more awake. They were all aware that this would be their last night together as a class, so they stayed up the entire night talking and laughing and reveling in their success that day.

Legolas, like them, could not, and would not sleep. He too knew that these last hours were very precious. He flitted from room to room, listening in on conversations with indulgent smiles, joining some groups of students when they spotted and called him, and generally spending as much time with each of them as he could.

On some occasions, he would find himself alone in an empty classroom for a few minutes, and he would reminisce over all the little incidents that had taken place in it over the past year. There were so many…

Legolas could have given himself up to them all night if students didn't keep bouncing into classrooms and interrupting him. Not that he minded. Because they kept popping in on him in his small periods alone, he was able to say personal goodbyes to many of them, and these he treasured more than anything else.

And so the night passed, with laughter, tears, and memories, and almost before anyone could realize it, it was morning again. Legolas felt a cold dread twisting in his stomach. He was going to meet Alanna tonight. Within the next twelve hours, he would be meeting his future wife. Apprehension and dread threatened to overwhelm him, but he pushed them down resolutely. _See the children off first; then think about that. Now is not the time._

With that thought, he made his way to the stables to see if the horses were ready to take the parents and children to their homes. They were. And the first parents were arriving as well. Before he knew it, almost, he had said his goodbyes to everyone. It happened so quickly, he almost missed it. Which, he could not help thinking as he waved to Celin, Aaliyah and Tathar, who were the last to leave, was probably a good thing. Prolonged goodbyes were always the most painful.

He turned, and felt slightly despondent as he looked at the silent palace walls. But, as he well knew, he would have more than enough to do over the next two months. After returning from his visit to Alanna's, he would also be returning to his father's palace for a the next two months where he would be learning all the numerous laws, the complexities of the paperwork, and the etiquette becoming a King at important ceremonies, which he would have to know when he became King. He fervently wished now that he had spent more time learning these things before, because apart from the fact that it would be awfully boring spending a month learning all those things by rote, his father's palace was only four hours away from Alanna's home.

And that meant that he would have to keep visiting her in order to keep up appearances. And even though he had not met her yet, he wanted as little to do with her as possible for as long as possible. Because he knew that before he knew it, the day of his marriage, his doom, would arrive, and then wedlock would bind them together for all eternity. He wanted to enjoy his freedom fully while it lasted.

Realizing how he was thinking, he chided himself silently. He was simply _assuming_ he would hate Alanna from the moment he saw her. His logical half said that there was a chance that he actually might _like_ her. From his father's descriptions she sounded spirited and feisty, and very different from so many of his other feather-headed suitors. Maybe he would (could?) even fall in love with her? He shied away from the thought.

He had met many women of breath-taking beauty in his long life. There was Arwen, his childhood friend, and he had never felt for her the way Aragorn did. There was Eowyn, who had shattered everything he had ever believed to be true about women. She was the reason for his desire for men and women to be considered equal. Yet he had never felt in the least attracted to her, full of fiery beauty though she was. And there were so many other Elven maidens who had tried and failed to woo him, and not all had been after his wealth and position. Some had genuinely harbored romantic feelings for him, but he had quickly and firmly, dispelled them.

He had never looked at anyone in a romantic light, and now, as things stood, he probably never would. The strange thing was; he did not even regret it. Perhaps he was incapable of loving anyone like that. No, he thought resignedly, he would never be in love with Alanna, and he would have to tell her so when he met her, so that she was under no illusions when they got married.

"Sir?" Elano's voice jolted him from his reverie.

"Yes, Elano. Are you leaving now?" Elano was going to see his mother. It was high time, in Legolas's opinion.

"Not just yet, sir," Elano replied, "I thought I'd leave in a week or so, after I did some more study. I really have been neglecting my healing these last few days. But what does one do, these children…" He trailed off.

Legolas frowned, "You really should go today, Elano. Your mother must miss you very much. The sooner you leave, the sooner you reach there. You know you have not gone since last year."

"Sir, I really _must_ do some studying," Elano was stubborn.

Legolas sighed, deciding to speak openly. He and Elano were good enough friends now to permit it, and if it offended the other, he would say so. "Why do you keep avoiding your home, Elano?" He asked, "I keep telling you to go, and you keep saying you will, but you don't. Don't you miss your mother?"

"Of course I miss her, sir," Elano replied quietly.

Legolas looked at him in surprise. A sudden cloud seemed to have passed over his face. "What's wrong, Elano?" he asked.

"Well, sir…" Elano sighed and shook his head, fumbling for words. "It's just that after…after…"

"After what?" Legolas asked gently.

"After my father's death my mother has changed a great deal," Elano replied.

Legolas sucked in a breath. He should have known. Elano had blossomed amazingly since Legolas had first met him, but the shadow of his family's deaths always hovered above him.

"I'm sorry, Elano," Legolas said in consternation, "I did not realize."

"I don't want to go home," Elano said, ignoring Legolas's apology. He sounded torn between guilt and sorrow. "It's selfish, I know, but every time I go back there, I am reminded of everyone I've lost. The house is silent. My mother does not laugh very much, anymore. The rooms are filled with silence, and memories. Every moment I spend in that house, I feel the loss of my sister and my father. Here, I'm so busy that I don't even have time to think about it." He laughed slightly, but the sound was fraught with misery.

Legolas sighed, and put a comforting hand on Elano's shoulder. "I'm sorry," He said again, wishing the words were not so woefully inadequate.

Elano nodded. "So am I."

There was a heavy silence, and then Legolas spoke, tentatively, "You know, Elano, your mother must feel your absence very much. I cannot imagine how she lives in that empty house with all those memories…"

"Oh, no, she likes it," Elano said, "She likes to live in the past. She likes to roam the corridors, reminiscing about _ada _and my sister…and when I go there, she cannot stop talking about them. It is her way of dealing with the grief, but I find it very painful to be continually reminded...as if I could forget, to begin with."

Legolas looked at the Elf with compassion. "I was going to suggest that your mother stay here, so that neither of you need be alone, but-"

"She wouldn't hear of it. She would hate to be parted with that house and its memories, not to mention, she is a proud woman and would hate to live here on your charity. No. You're right," he added, sighing heavily, "I really must go and see her. She's the last person I have left, apart from Ivana, and she's…" He gestured vaguely towards the forest outside the grounds.

Ivana had been Elano's best friend the previous year, Legolas remembered. And, he realized with a pang, she too would be leaving soon. She would be sailing to Valinor within the next few months, leaving Elano with one more loss to add to his life. Well, it wasn't a _loss_ exactly, because it wasn't as though Ivana were going to die, but it would be a sad wrench for Elano, especially if he did not have a chance to say goodbye.

He cleared his throat slightly, "Yes, Elano about Ivana…" He wondered how much he should divulge. Elano would want an explanation, and he wouldn't be able to give it. "I think you should go and visit her, during this two-month vacation. Spend at least a week with her."

"Why?" Elano said, looking at him in surprise, "Weren't you just saying that I should spend time at home with my mother?"

Legolas looked at Elano in consternation, wondering how to break the news to him, "I have it on good authority that Ivana will no longer be within your reach in a few months time," He said in a low voice.

"What?" Elano said in alarm. "What's that supp-?"

"No, no, no, nothing to get so alarmed about," Legolas hastened to assure him, "It's just…she may be sailing soon." There, he had said it. Hang the consequences.

"What?" Elano asked in amazement, "Why, when?"

"Within the next few months, and I can't tell you why. But…" Legolas paused, knowing how this was going to sound, "Please do not mention this about the sailing to Ivana when you do visit her."

"Why ever not?" Elano was becoming more and more puzzled, "What's going on, sir."

"She doesn't know yet that she's going to sail," Legolas said. "I can't say anything right now," He added, as Elano opened his mouth, "You'll find out soon enough. As soon as I am in a position to tell you, I will. For now, just…say your goodbyes?" He finished weakly.

Elano's face changed from amazement to misery. "Right," he muttered, "Goodbyes."

"I wish it didn't have to be this way," Legolas said gently, "I'm sorry." He mentally kicked himself as he realized that was probably the fifth time he'd said he was sorry in the last ten minutes.

"No, thank you," Elano answered, trying to smile, "For telling me, I mean. At least this way, it won't be so sudden."

"You're welcome."

There was a pause.

"I should probably start packing," Elano said.

"Yes, I should go too. Father will be expecting me." He had told everyone that he was meeting his father. For obvious reasons, he could not breathe a word about Alanna until everything was finalized.

"Well. In case you leave before I have a chance to see you again, I'll say goodbye now. Take care of yourself over the summer."

"And, you."

"Safe journey."

…

Legolas swore under his breath. He could not _believe_ it was raining. For Eru's sake, it was barely February! He groaned, spurring Arod on. They were nearly there, thank the Valar. Unfortunately, he was drenched. He had hoped to look his best for the occasion; not because he wanted to impress, but because the occasion itself demanded it. He was going to meet his future wife for the first time, and he was covered in mud from his horse's hooves, his shirt was sticking to him like a second skin, and worst of all, in his opinion, his braids had managed to undo themselves so that his hair was plastered haphazardly to his face. To add to his misery, he had not even carried a cloak, having not expected rain at this time of the year.

A pair of dark gates suddenly loomed overhead. He blinked rainwater from his eyes, and rode forward, his heart warming at the thought of getting indoors. He neared the gates, and gasped. The house was not a house. It was a…a palace. There was no other word for it. The thing was colossal.

_Typical ada_, Legolas thought, half amused, half annoyed. It was so like Thranduil to do something like this. When Caladel made him promise to take care of Alanna, instead of adopting her, as he should have done, he had shut her up in a huge palace with only servants and nurses to look after her and had forgotten about her for millennia. He shuddered slightly. He could not imagine growing up so alone. Yet, he could not blame his father for what he had done. That time had been hard for him too. He had just lost his first wife, and Caladel had just given him a son who would threaten Ivana's position in the kingdom.

He sighed slightly, and dismounted at the gates, which seemed to open of their own accord. He looked around and spotted a pair of guards straining at each gate. Apparently, he had been expected. He walked through, handed Arod's reins to one of the guards, and started down a large, winding path, which the guards had told him would lead to the front entrance.

His foot caught on something, and he almost tripped. It was a root. He swore under his breath, wondering what had happened to his Elven instincts. Either they had dissolved with the rain, or more likely, he was too preoccupied with the prospect of meeting his Alanna to pay attention. He walked forward, this time more cautiously, and his Elven eyes detected a vast undergrowth of roots and weeds on the path. The path had not been weeded in years.

Finally, he reached the entrance. There was a marble staircase, a landing, and a pair of doors which looked as though they had not been opened in centuries. He climbed carefully, as the stairs were slick and slippery with the rain, and knocked smartly on the huge wooden doors.

The door opened almost immediately, and a flushed, harassed looking young woman in a voluminous white dress, stepped out into the rain.

"Pleased to meet you, your Majesty," she gasped, trying to curtsey. Unfortunately, as she moved her foot, it caught in one of the folds of her many-layered dress, causing her to lose balance, and teeter forward. He put his arms out instinctively, trying to steady her, but her unexpected weight combined with the slick marble floor had the opposite effect from what he had desired. To his complete and utter mortification, his foot slipped on the marble, and both of them fell in a heap on the floor.

They both lay stunned, and in Legolas's case, winded, on the wet floor for a moment, and then Legolas began the hard task of extricating himself from her voluminous skirts, while trying to keep his eyes averted at the same time, a feat he would never have accomplished if he had not been so mortified. At last, he won the battle, and stood up as gracefully as he could.

"You must be Alanna," he stated, holding his hand out to her gallantly. Now he remembered his father's warning about her clumsiness. _Now is a fine time to remember, after she's tripped, fallen and caused you to fall as well_, he chided himself.

"And you," she said after she had managed to stand with some difficulty, "Are Legolas."

They stared at each other for a moment, both dismayed by what had just transpired. Then Alanna seemed to shake herself out of her reverie.

"Come inside," she said, and started inside, holding her layers up so she would not trip over them. _Something she should have done before she thoughtlessly stepped out into the rain,_ he thought, somewhat peeved. With a feeling between foreboding and dismay, he followed her.

…

TBC…

Sorry I haven't updated in so long, but my boards start on May 15th so I'll be a bit booked over the next month. Thank you all for reading though. And to my two anonymous reviewers:

Cassie- thanks for the constructive critiscism.

Isilwen- I'm glad you think so.


	12. Bound By Duty

Title: Until We Reach Valinor

Chapter 12: Bound By Duty

NOTE: This story is sequel to "A Teacher's Duty" and you'll have to read that one first to understand this. Also, this story does _not_ contain slash, and it is _not_ a romance, despite what the first chapter might suggest.

SPECIAL THANKS to Orlando's Sweetheart for helping me pick the name of Legolas's bride-to-be as well as the title of this story.

That said, on with the chapter.

…

They stepped into a dark corridor, lit only by some small torches on the left and right, and even these were few and far between. The small fires caused large shadows to brood ominously on the stone walls. It reminded Legolas of a cave. He suppressed a shudder; he could not imagine how anyone could have grown up here. His father must have been completely crazy to have put an infant in a place like this and forgotten about her for the rest of his life.

After a few minutes of walking in silence, she led him into a room. It was a parlor of some sort, and to his relief, it was much more cheerful than the corridor. There was a fire roaring in the furnace, and bright colored rugs on the floor. A few chairs surrounding a small table were placed near the fire, as well as a big couch. The chairs were positioned such that all of them would receive equal warmth from the fire.

Alanna turned to Legolas suddenly, startling him, "I'm sorry," She apologized, "I'm the clumsiest She-Elf that ever lived," For some inane reason, she began to laugh, and as her face was illuminated by the fire, Legolas could see it clearly for the first time. He had not had many expectations, but her plump frame, slightly chubby cheeks, soft brown eyes, and slightly flattened nose seemed to suit her, even if none of her features was exactly breathtaking to look at. But when they were crinkled like that in laughter, he admitted grudgingly to himself, that she wasn't unpleasant to look at.

His scrutiny of her was interrupted by her laughter, which was growing in volume. In fact, she was holding her sides, and tears were pouring down her cheeks. He looked at her in alarm. Why on earth was she _laughing_, he wondered. _What in the world was there to laugh about?_

"Are you well?" He asked her, getting increasingly alarmed when she did not stop laughing. Perhaps living alone for so long had addled her brains.

"Yes, yes, of course I am," She said, making an effort to catch her breath. "Just- don't you think it's funny?"

"Don't I think _what_ is funny?"

"Our meeting," She said, holding her sides and groaning, "I don't think I'll ever forget it."

_I don't think I'll ever forget it either_, Legolas thought dryly. Aloud, he said, "I will agree that it was quite memorable as far as meetings go."

That caused her to laugh even more, "At least you have a sense of humor," She said, "Though you don't laugh very much. But there are compensations," She grinned wickedly, "You're very handsome. I'll almost be sorry to see you leave; you _are_ one of the nice ones. Handsome, not pompous, not arrogant, and you have a sense of humor, too." Legolas privately disagreed with her on that count, as he could not see anything remotely funny about the situation.

"It will almost be a pity," she continued. His brow furrowed, and she explained, "To see you leave. It will almost be a pity."

"What makes you so sure I'm going to be leaving?" He asked, slightly unnerved by her matter-of-fact manner.

She scoffed at him, "As if you'd agree to marry _me_."

"Er…" He did not know what he was supposed to say to that. Did she expect him to compliment her appearance? He was so new to this; he had no idea what he was supposed to say. She solved the problem for him, by slapping her head, violently.

"Oh, Valar! I'm such a scatterbrain!" She looked at him, laughing, "I beg your pardon, Leg- I mean My Lord, I'm afraid I make the world's worst hostess. It was completely thoughtless of me to leave you standing there like that. I'll show you to your room, so you can change out of your wet clothes. Oh, and I'm awfully sorry about tripping like that," She added over her shoulder, as she stepped back out into the dark corridor, "Funny or not, I should have known better than to wear this." She indicated her dress with a slightly rueful expression. "Just last month, it caused poor what's-his-name quite a bit of grief." She paused, "I'm bad at names as well."

"It's…don't trouble yourself," Legolas replied, feeling a little overwhelmed by this- was it an apology?- a confidence? "And you can call me Legolas." He added as an afterthought, as he remembered how she had almost called him that, and then corrected herself.

"Better and better!" She exclaimed, startling him yet again. He frowned, wondering how often this was going to happen, "I'm glad you consider us to be equals," She explained at his expression, "Because even if we don't get married, we are still two individuals coming together to discuss it. And that, in my opinion, makes us equals. Don't you agree?"

He hadn't thought of it that way, having assumed right from the start that she was indeed his equal. However, he was glad to know that she too believed what he did, when it came to equality among men and women. It was a relief.

"Yes, I do agree," he replied with more feeling than he had intended. He frowned as she raised her eyebrows. He had sounded slightly irate, when all he had wanted was to convey his whole-hearted agreement. He sighed. _Why _was just expressing a sentiment to this woman so difficult?

"Well," She said, stopping suddenly by a wooden door and almost causing Legolas to walk into her, "This is where you'll be sleeping tonight. "You have a change of clothes, don't you?"

"Yes, thank you," he said.

"Then get changed, and- you'll be able to find you're way back to the parlor, won't you?"

"Yes, of course," He said, frowning. "Why would you think that I wouldn't?"

She blushed slightly. "It's stupid of me, I know, but I always get lost _wherever_ I go. And that's saying something, considering I haven't stepped out of this palace in the longest time. You see, I don't really come to this side very often; it's far too dark and lonely. My nurse insisted I at least pretend that my bedroom was here."

"There doesn't seem to be much point, now, does there?" Legolas asked, rhetorically.

"You need to be warned of my shortcomings if you're going to marry me," She replied, "I have an awful sense of direction. I get lost wherever I go." She laughed lightly. "In fact, I had one of the servants take me around and familiarize me with everything this morning so I wouldn't embarrass myself in front of you and lose my way!"

"Right. Well…I won't get lost," He said, torn between amusement and disbelief. How could someone get lost in their own house?

"No. Of course you won't," She said absently, "Sometimes I forget that Elves are normally perfect in every respect. I'm just an exception." Was she joking, Legolas wondered? Somehow, he could never tell.

"Well, you go to the parlor after you finish changing," She continued, as if she had made a perfectly ordinary observation, "And then I'll meet you there shortly."

"Of course," he said. "Thank you for showing me the room."

"You're welcome," she said, turning to leave, her dress rustling as she did so.

…

Legolas did not know how long he had waited when Alanna hustled into the parlor, looking much more comfortable in simple evening gown.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, "It took ages to get out of that dress. Don't even remember how I got it on to begin with. And I don't want to," She added as an afterthought, as she sat down, "And I lost my way. Again," Legolas did not respond, and she looked at him in surprise, "You don't talk very much, do you?"

"I'm sorry if it offends you," he replied, somewhat testily.

"Oh, it doesn't offend me," she replied, apparently not noticing his tone, "It's a relief, to be honest. I hate it when Elves come here and tell me how beautiful I am, and things of that sort when I know it isn't true and they don't mean it."

"Is there something in particular you want to say?" Legolas asked, changing the subject pointedly. He didn't know what to say when she described herself and her feelings so matter-of-factly, and she had been doing it very often over the evening, he noticed. "Because," he continued, "I have to say something myself."

"Do you? Well it can't be worse then what I say," She said, her expression becoming serious, "There's something you must know about me before we say a word about marriage." She took a deep breath, "And I need you to promise me not to fly into a rage, or…"

"I wouldn't fly into a rage," He said, though he was getting alarmed. Her secret had caused previous suitors to fly into rages?

"No, you don't seem the kind of person who would," She said, "But you have to understand. This might be something of a shock."

Legolas didn't respond, just waiting for her to speak, and trying to suppress his curiosity.

"If I am to marry you, it can only be on one condition," She said. He looked at her in surprise, and she sighed.

"About thousand years ago, an Elf wandered onto these grounds searching for game. As the grounds are quite extensive, he did not know he had wandered into somebody's home until I; quite literally, walked into him." She laughed slightly, but the laugh was tinged with sadness, "He was a little winded, but more than that, he was surprised to see me, a woman, unescorted in the wilderness. I told him I lived her, and he asked questions, and then by and by, the I told him everything. Something about him compelled me to do so. And then I invited him into my home."

She paused, and Legolas wondered where this story was going.

"Before I met him, I was a…a horrible person." She shuddered slightly at the memory of what she had been, "I had lived in the lap of luxury all my life, and I had never interacted with anyone except for my nurses and servants. He helped me. I realized how spoilt I was, and for the first time, I realized how _lonely_ I was. He would come to visit me everyday, and we grew to be good friends. He saved me from my loneliness and rescued me from becoming…becoming a monster. And then, slowly, our friendship turned to…" She looked at him, half frightened, half defiant.

"Love?" Legolas finished for her, guessing it by the expression on her face.

"That's right."

There was a tense silence, and then Legolas asked slowly, "If you love another, why didn't you tell my father in the first place? Why are you consenting to see all these suitors? I assure you, he will not mind who you marry, as long as you _do_ marry. He will keep you well-provided for."

"If only it were that simple," She said, her eyes flashing with pain, "Rilian, the one I loved, is dead now. He died just before we were going to announce our engagement in a skirmish with some orcs who had strayed in his path while he was hunting. He killed all of them, and managed to make it back to my house before he died. He's been dead for centuries now."

Legolas glanced at her. She seemed to be fighting tears. "I'm very sorry," He said softly, not knowing what else to say, and wishing he didn't sound quite so detached.

"Thank you," She said sadly, "But that's not the reason I'm telling you this. I'm telling you this because I need you to understand something. I need you to understand that should you marry me, I will never, ever look at you in a romantic light. My heart will _always_ be Rilian's. And when we do eventually sail..." She looked him straight in the eye, "I will want to sever all ties. Because in Valinor, Rilian is awaiting me. And I _will not_, I _cannot_, disappoint him."

There was a pregnant silence. Then, Legolas asked, "Why don't you…sail right now? Why do you want to marry first?"

"I have a duty to your mother, and mine. My mother's dying wish was to her maid and midwife, who became my nurse upon her bidding. She made her promise to take care of me, to bring me up, to find me a husband, and make me happy. And your mother, Caladel, made King Thrandruil promise the same thing, albeit in fewer words. I cannot make King Thranduil and my nurse, especially my nurse, break their words. If I do not marry, I will not be able to sail without breaking their words. And if I cannot sail, I'll never be able to see Rilian again. Not to mention the calling of the ocean which all of us experience."

There was another pause. Legolas wondered what he should say. He was very relieved that he would not have to stay with her for the rest of his life, because after meeting her, the prospect of marriage had become so terrifyingly real, that he had been on the verge of panic at the thought of having to live in wedlock with a complete stranger until the end of eternity.

"You have been honest with me." He said finally, feeling as though he owed her something for that. "And I will be honest with you as well. I owe you that much. I am very relieved about what you have told me."

"Thank you, you truly know how to flatter a woman," She said with a straight face.

He blushed. "I didn't mean…" He stammered, and she laughed heartily again.

"I was just joking," She said, eyes sparkling with amusement, "Please tell me why you are so 'completely reilieved.'"

He smiled somewhat nervously, and ploughed ahead bravely, though mentally kicking himself for his blunder, "My freedom as a bachelor means everything to me. I have never loved anyone in that way, and suspect I can't, or don't know how to. I have always shuddered at the idea of wedlock before now." He paused, "Am I being too frank for you?"

"No, no you're not," Alanna said, "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable by laughing just now." She smiled, "I too am relieved that you did not over-react to my revelation. But, if you don't mind my asking, why do you want to marry me if you dislike the idea of marriage so much?"

"My father wishes to sail," He said, "You cannot repeat this to anyone before it becomes official, but my father wants to crown me as King within the next few months, and then he will sail. By the law of Mirkwood, I must marry before I become King, so that my line is secured."

"Forgive me for being presumptuous, but you do not seem to be the kind of person who would consent to marriage only because your father wanted to sail."

"My father, Alanna, is the King of Mirkwood."

"And you are its Prince and its sole heir, and his son, and from what I've heard you don't heed anyone's orders, King or no King, unless you want o. There is more to why you are consenting to ascending the throne. Isn't there?"

"Yes, but I can't…." He hesitated. He realized that if he could trust seventy-two teenagers about the secret concerning Ivana, he should be able to trust his future wife, but he knew could not bring himself to divulge anything to her, not when he did not know her at all.

"I respect that," She said, after searching his face. "It's something political, is it not?"

"How did you…?"

"Because I know you would have told me if you could have. You want to be as honest with me as I was with you. But I know now that this marriage will be as much a matter of duty for you as for me. And for now, that is enough. When you learn to trust me, you can tell me the rest."

"So- we are getting married, then?" Legolas asked. Never in a million years would he have thought he was going to propose to a woman like this. Instead of on his knees and with a ring, asking 'Will you marry me?' he was asking matter-of-factly, 'So- we are getting married, then?' He waited with bated breath

"Yes," She said after a long moment, "We are." She paused, sighing audibly. "We'll have to do something about those marriage vows though."

"What-?"

"You know. 'Until eternity fades…' That won't be exactly right for us, now, will it? Because we _won't_ be married until eternity fades. Just…until we reach Valinor. So it would be wrong to promise each other publicly that we were going to be married forever."

"Er…I could speak to my father about that, but I don't know if that's a good idea. I don't think we'd be allowed to change the wording of the vows. Eyebrows will be raised…and I don't particularly want _ada_ to know that that's going to be the nature of the agreement. He's already guilty enough about me marrying for his sake, as it is."

"I don't want to make a false promise," She insisted.

He sighed, "Well, we won't lie. We can cross our fingers behind our backs. Or-"

She snorted. "Cross our fingers behind our back? How old are we, Legolas?"

"I was going to _say_," Legolas said through gritted teeth, "We could make the promise right now, that we would only be married until we sailed. Then it wouldn't matter so much what we promised each other publicly. Especially if we crossed our fingers behind our backs,"

He smiled grudgingly at the expression on her face as she realized she had a point. The notion really _was_ childish. "It comes from teaching teenagers," He said by way of explanation.

"Ah, yes, you teach teenagers archery, don't you?" She said, "I had forgotten. Do you…enjoy it?"

"Yes," He replied honestly, "Even though I hated it at first. But children…they grow on you once you get used to them."

"I can't imagine."

"In regards to the subject of children," Legolas said after a pause, as something suddenly struck him, "I have to say this now, to avoid misunderstandings later. I cannot sail away with you to Valinor without providing Greenwood with an heir."

"I know," She sighed, "Believe me when I say that it will be as hard for me as it will be for you. Harder," She added as an afterthought, "As I will be the one bearing the child." She shuddered.

"You would…" Legolas paused, "You would be willing to bear my child? Even when…?"

"I would do anything for Rilian," She said with a sigh, "Even this. Your duty binds you to Greenwood. I understand that your duty to me and my wishes will always come second next to it. And as I'm going to be the Queen soon, I have to accept it. You are probably the only person who will enter into wedlock with me on these conditions, the only person who will agree to this, because you, like me, are bound by duty. I cannot pass this by, or I may never get another chance to be with the one I love. And you don't know what that feels like."

"Very well," Legolas said after a long silence. "I brought a ring. Do you want me to…?"

"No, just give it to me, I'll wear it," She said hurriedly, "Since this is between us, no one needs to know that you didn't get down on your knees and…" Her voice trailed off as he handed her the box.

She opened it, and gasped. "It's beautiful," She said, awed.

"It's _mithril_. It belonged to my mother," He replied.

"I am honored." She hesitated for a moment.

"As is the custom, you should wear it on your middle finger until we are married, and then after that on your ring finger," He said, aware that she probably already knew this from her engagement with Rilian, but still needing to fill the silence.

She fingered the ring uncertainly, and then slowly, but surely slipped it onto her middle finger. She looked at it, and then looked at him. In that moment, they both stared each other, letting it sink in. It was final now, and there would be no turning back. _They were engaged to be married. _

…

TBC…

Hmm. So, that would have cleared up a couple of things, like why I said the story isn't a romance, and now you know what the title means, too. What did you think of Ivana? Weird? Horrible? Has an awful sense of humor? Is terrible at navigation?

I actually surprised myself by updating this quickly, all though I shouldn't have been. I always get flashes of inspiration when I'm studying for/doing exams.

In fact, this story is the product of the one-month study leave and the one-month board exam that followed it in tenth grade, over a year ago. I always feel like writing when I'm supposed to be studying (which is why I'm here now). However, don't expect any updates from me till after June 7th (although I may just surprise myself, and you, again) because that's when my boards will end.

As for me, yesterday's Literature exam went fairly well, though today's Business Studies paper was a disappointment. However, that is not altogether surprising, as there was a huge rush to finish portions since we were actually supposed to give the exam in November, and this May thing was unplanned. Luckily, I can easily re-take the exam in November, because the AS part will be coming in A2 as well, so it won't be any extra effort. :D

Now that I've finished boring you with this story of my life (which you were probably NOT interested in), I will request you to PLEASE REVIEW as well as thank my anonymous reviewer Isilwen for her words of wisdom. And I'm not being sarcastic, just brain-dead from the sleep deficits. Wish me luck for my Psychology exam on Thursday! See you guys, hopefully soon!


	13. An Afternoon Spent With Alanna

Title: Until We Reach Valinor

Chapter 13: A Morning Spent With Alanna

NOTE: This story is sequel to "A Teacher's Duty" and you'll have to read that one first to understand this. Also, this story does _not_ contain slash, and it is _not_ a romance, despite what the first chapter might suggest.

SPECIAL THANKS to Orlando's Sweetheart for helping me pick the name of Legolas's bride-to-be as well as the title of this story. Also, Cassie, or elvenmistress19 for agreeing to be my beta-reader and for her advice on this chapter.

DEDICATION: This chapter is for Cassie as a get-well-soon present as she is in the hospital (I assume that's why you didn't reply to my last mail? You got sent back?). I hope she is well. Get well soon, Cassie! I want to hear from you soon!

…

Legolas spent a sleepless night in a foreign and musty smelling bedroom, his mind whirling with so many thoughts that he could not even rest, let alone sleep a little. If he had been at home, he would have given up and gone to the library and read a book by candlelight. But being Alanna's guest, and in a foreign place he knew little about, he was forced to spend the night tossing and turning restlessly.

He rose as soon as the sun came up, dressed, and made his way to the parlor. Alanna was already sitting there, leafing through a book; he had a sneaking suspicion that she had not slept a wink either. She rose to greet him.

"Good morning. Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, thank you," He lied, "Did you?"

"I've been up all night," She admitted, "Just…thinking. I…"

"What is it?" He asked; his smile fading. Had she changed her mind? Or was she going to reveal another shocking secret?

"I…" She blushed, and then said hurriedly, "I er…this is embarrassing but…I completely forgot to give you a ring last night."

"Oh," He said, surprised, and then embarrassed, because he too had completely forgotten that she had to give him a ring to seal the betrothal. "You…"

"Here," She said, sparing him the necessity of speaking, and passing him a wooden box. "Unless," Her hand wavered, "You wish to change your mind? It isn't final, not yet. Even now, you can change your mind."

He simply shook his head, and took the box from her. In it was a plain silver band without any stone, only a small circle carved at the center where the stone normally would have been. Not half as valuable or beautiful as the ring he had given her, but it was simple, and tasteful.

He looked up, and said "Thank you. But I too will ask you one last time, before I put it on, do you wish to change your mind?" He asked, giving her a chance to refuse, as she had given him one.

But she shook her head, no. She squinted at him and then said, "You know, I am very surprised that you do not have any problem against being used, quite literally, as just a means, a way, for me to reach the one I love. Even though you are bound by duty…"

"As I said yesterday, it is a relief," He replied, a trifle uneasily, because he could not tell if he was receiving a compliment or a veiled insult.

"Even so," She said, "There are many men, who even being bound as you are, would have felt it a blot on their pride if they did not have a wife who doted on, honored, and waited on them hand and foot."

"Yes, well…" He said, as always not sure what to say to her matter-of-fact musings. He wished she would refrain from saying to which he didn't know what to say in return. "Thank you, the ring is beautiful," He said.

"It isn't a patch on yours, and you know it," she scoffed, "Yours is _mithril_." She glanced down at her hand.

He shifted uncomfortably, not knowing what to say. He decided on the truth. "Yes, well, I appreciate its simplicity." He said, and then winced. That had _not_ come out right. He glanced at her to see if she was insulted, but the fact that what he had said could have been taken for an insult seem to have flown completely over her head, if her half-accepting half-impressed expression was anything to judge by.

"You didn't truly forget to bring the ring yesterday, did you?" He said quietly. Something about her expression had compelled him to ask. If she had actually _forgotten_ the ring, from what he had seen of her the previous night, she would have been laughing at herself, and making jokes at her own excuse, not blushing and embarrassed.

"No," She replied at last, coloring. "I never thought you'd consent to marry me, so I didn't even bother to bring it. I didn't even consider it. It's been lying in a drawer for months now." Her voice was a mixture of resignation and relief.

"Why _were_ you so convinced that I wouldn't marry you?" He asked curiously, "I'm sure you realized my father sent me for a reason. You probably guessed by how sudden the arrangement was that it was a matter of necessity for me, of duty. Why did you then think I would never consent to marry you? Is it the secret? It doesn't seem enough. You knew my father would know you had one. You knew I would be prepared for the worst." He looked at her curiously, "Why do you have such a poor opinion of yourself?"

"N-no, it's not that," She said, the color in her cheeks deepening to red. "I…" And to his horror, she looked upset, and he had not intended to do that. But he saw he'd inadvertently backed her into a corner.

"Never mind," he said softly. "It matters not." He smiled, trying to reassure her, but to his surprise and horror, only succeeded in upsetting her further. He sighed, and averted his eyes from her flushed countenance, waiting for her to recover herself.

He swore to find out what this was about at some later date, but he could perceive that this was not the time. But he would definitely not let this go. He could not understand _why_ she had such a poor opinion of herself. The way she laughed at herself, made jokes at her own expense, and put herself down at every opportunity had struck him as very strange, and slightly exasperating, as he had not yet figured out what the best reaction would be. She did not seem to expect him to contradict her, and he could hardly agree with her. That would be outright rude. They sat in uncomfortable silence, while she recovered herself.

"I was thinking," Legolas said, when he perceived by the return of her regular breathing that she had recovered, "That the school is very well established where it is. The children like it there, the place is equipped for their archery practice, the armory is stocked, and it would throw lessons off course for a week or two if we moved to the main palace. Not to mention, the unnecessary expense of moving everything. I think it would be best if we made our home there. It is smaller than this palace, and certainly smaller than the main palace, so I thought I should ask you first. Maybe you will have trouble adjusting…?"

"Legolas, honestly, this palace is so large and so empty that I sometimes feel like I'm going to die of loneliness. I can live anywhere as long as there are people to fill the halls and corridors. I'm tired of living _alone_. I can't tell you how much I'm looking forward to living among fifty or sixty children…"

"It will probably be more than that," Legolas warned.

"The more the merrier," She said, with conviction.

"Reserve your comments about that until you hear all of them on their first day," He said, somewhat amused, "You'll wish you hadn't been born. The more they are, the louder they get. And I speak from experience."

"Still," She insisted, "I have never interacted with children before. I will look forward to the experience with an eager heart." She smiled, her spirits seemingly quite recovered.

He smiled uncertainly in return, not sure what to make of the sudden change in mood.

"So," She said brightly, after another moment of silence, "When do you want the ceremony? And where?"

"I will have to run that by my father. As you know, the groom's father conducts the ceremony. But I was thinking, along the lines of the end of this month."

She looked at him surprised, "That soon?"

"Well, I was hoping…why, is that a problem?"

"No, no, not in the least," She returned hastily. It's just, aren't you going to at least _pretend_ that we know each other well before we get married? I realized that this is not a marriage of love, but…"

"I don't think it will be a problem," Legolas replied, "I think marriages of convenience are quite the norm among Mirkwood royalty. My mother and my father had a similar marriage, and no one had any objection." He did not tell her that it was at the insistence of his people that Thranduil had remarried to begin with.

She nodded. "Where will it be held?" she asked after a moment.

"I'm not sure. That, too, will have to be up to my father. It will probably be in the throne room of the main palace, as our coronation will be soon after our wedding."

"Oh, Valar!" She said, her eyes wide.

"What?" Legolas asked.

"I've been thinking about this marriage so much, that I completely forgot that I'm going to be Queen. That just…it…"

"Don't you want to be Queen?" Legolas said, in mild surprise. He would have thought that someone who'd been living like a queen all her life would have no problem being one.

"No!" She exclaimed, looking horrified at the thought, "I'd be hopeless! I don't know the first thing about diplomacy, or tact, or-"

"All you'll have to do is smile, and wave to the crowds during public appearances, and make polite conversation at banquets. That's all. Everything else can be left up to me, unless you actually _want_ to intervene." He had always known that it would be his lot to take the throne one day; so much as he dreaded it he had accepted it, unlike her.

"Polite conversation!" she all but screeched, "Tact! For me, that's as difficult as trying to thread a needle with a tree trunk!"

"You'll learn," He said firmly, with more confidence than he felt, "Because you'll have to. There won't be any other way around it."

"Well…just be prepared for mistakes. I'm forewarning you," She said grimacing.

He looked at her with a dismayed expression. As if the marriage to a complete stranger, his duties as a teacher, and his duties as a King wasn't enough, he would have Alanna's blunders to contend with as well. He suppressed a groan.

"Well," He said, only half-joking. "Please remind me that you forewarned me when you make blunders, otherwise I will not be able to vouch for my own actions."

She laughed lightly at this, giving way to a more comfortable silence than the last one. Alanna fidgeted with her engagement ring for a moment, and then a moment later, said, "Would you like some breakfast?"

"Yes, please," He said, "I shall have to leave soon after; I have to see my father."

"Of course. Caliana!" She called, and a woman came rushing in. From the way she was dressed Legolas inferred that she was a servant.

"My Lady?" She asked.

"Please bring us breakfast," Alanna said.

"Yes, Lady."

Legolas watched the exchange with some foreboding. There were only a few servants at the school; Legolas encouraged the students to be self-reliant as far as possible. While he knew that when he became King, there would be more guards and servants in and around the palace, he could not help but feel worried that Alanna was too used to being waited on hand and foot, and would be dissatisfied when someone did not answer her every beck and call. He supposed he would just have to wait and see, but he was beginning to realize that Alanna's isolated upbringing was going to be decidedly problematic in the future.

The breakfast came, along with two silver plates and spoons. It was, to Legolas's relief, an ordinary broth, along with a few pieces of buttered bread in a basket. He disliked food that was rich and ostentatious.

She served him, and to his relief, and her surprise, managed not to spill the broth. Caliana hovered in the background, clucking her tongue concernedly, and admonishing her Lady to "_be careful! And use the right serving spoon! That one's for vegetables!_" To which Alanna kept laughing and replying that the more Caliana warned her, the more likely she was to spill the whole bowl of broth down her dress, which was, she added, thankfully black so the stain wouldn't show if that did happen.

Legolas waited until she had served herself with bated breath, expecting an accident every other second, but to his relief, and to Caliana's, there were no accidents.

He tasted the broth, and gagged involuntarily. It was _bland_! _Completely tasteless!_ He looked up, wondering if there had been some sort of mistake, and if the cook had forgotten to add spices.

"This is wonderful," She sighed, smiling at Caliana, who beamed at her.

"Isn't it?" She asked, Legolas. She had not noticed his initial reaction to the broth.

"Yes," He lied, having no choice under the circumstances, "It's got such a subtle flavor." _So subtle that I can't even taste it._

They ate in silence, Legolas because he thought that if he said anything, he would surely choke on the tasteless, watery liquid; and Alanna because she, he would later discover, generally did not speak very much at mealtimes. Legolas was relieved that the bread and butter were at least palatable, and ate more of this. The meal was over soon, because Alanna ate extremely fast and he himself ate less than normal, not liking the food.

"Well," Legolas said after a moment, "I have to go home now. Father will be expecting me."

"Yes," Alanna answered, surprising him with a curtsey. "It's been a pleasure, my Lord." He raised an eyebrow in astonishment. "Caliana will have my head if I don't address you properly," She explained in a low voice, glancing over her shoulder at the woman, who was eyeing him with mistrust.

Legolas suppressed a smile, and said, bowing to play the part of a gentleman, "Farewell, my Lady. It has indeed been, as you said, a pleasure. I thank you for your company."

Caliana clucked in approval, and Alanna shot Legolas a grateful look. She walked him to the door, curtseying again, and waiting politely at the door until his horse was brought by one of the men at the gate. He bowed, bade her yet another formal farewell for the benefit of the watching guards, and mounted Arod.

Alanna watched as he rode off into the distance.

…

Legolas knocked on the entrance to his father's throne room, paused a moment, and entered. His father looked up, and then rose swiftly from his throne when he saw that it was his son. Legolas walked slowly forward until he was face to face with his father, wondering what to tell him, and how.

"Well?" Thranduil asked impatiently after the prolonged silence, "What happened?"

Legolas hesitated a beat, and then raised his hand, letting the ring on the middle finger of his right hand speak for itself.

…

TBC…

Sorry it took so long to update. This chapter was actually ready some time ago, but was delayed because I didn't realize for a long time that Cassie was sick. I would have waited, but that would have meant keeping all of my readers waiting, and since it's been ages since my last update, I feared losing readers. Anyways, thank you all for reviewing.

Oh, and, Lindahoyland would probably be interested to know that the next chapter will be…ENTER ARAGORN! And once he's there, he'll be there to stay! So to those of you who've missed him, you now have something to anticipate. Please review!

P.S. Because of my hurry to update, I may have been unable to pick up on some of the typos Cassie says were littering this chapter. I'm terribly sorry, and hope the chapter was good enough to make up for them.


	14. A Letter For Aragorn

Title: Until We Reach Valinor

Chapter 14: A Letter for Aragorn

NOTE: This story is sequel to "A Teacher's Duty" and you'll have to read that one first to understand this. Also, this story does _not_ contain slash, and it is _not_ a romance, despite what the first chapter might suggest.

SPECIAL THANKS to Orlando's Sweetheart for helping me pick the name of Legolas's bride-to-be as well as the title of this story. Also, Lindaholyand, who has agreed to fill in for beta-reader while Cassie recovers. (Hopefully, she is recovering, but since I can only contact her by e-mail, I have no real way of knowing).

DEDICATION: This chapter is for Lindahoyland, for her detailed corrections and wonderful advice!

…

_Dear Aragorn,_

_I'm getting married._

Aragorn nearly fell out of his chair in surprise, and read and re-read the words, wondering if his eyes had deceived him. Then he checked the back of the letter to make quite sure that it was Legolas who was writing, although the handwriting and the matter-of-fact manner of dropping the bombshell would normally have been proof enough. However, the Legolas he knew wouldn't just get married. Not the same Legolas who was forever talking about how he cherished his freedom as a bachelor. **_What in the world possessed him?_**

I must confess, I enjoyed doing that. Springing it on you, I mean. I can just see your expression.

**_Oh, you can, can you?_** He glared ferociously at the letter.

_I know you have good reason to be surprised. I would be too; in fact, I still am, this has all happened so quickly. Oh, and, I think I'll make it clear to that overly optimistic, romantic imagination of yours that I DO NOT love her, and she DOES NOT love me, and we have discussed it, so there will be no misunderstandings later. I know that this might be a little difficult for you, who have loved Arwen since your twentieth birthday when you first met her, to understand, but some of us are just not made to fall in love. _

Aragorn glared at the letter again, begging to differ. That was, in his opinion, the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard. _Everyone_ was destined for love sometime in their lives. He had dared to love an Elf, a love which from the start had been doomed because of his mortality; yet, it had ended in happiness. Even when he thought he would never see her again, thought she would sail and abandon him, it had still ended in happiness. So thus it was his firm belief that sometime or other, people _did_ fall in love; whether it was requited or not was a different matter. He winced, remembering Eowyn.

_But enough of that._ _I'm sure you're wondering WHY I've decided to get married so suddenly and at such short notice. Truth be told, as the days go by, and I spend more and more time with Alanna, my fiancé, I'm beginning to wonder too, if it is worth it to spend the rest of my life with a complete stranger. But then I remember Ivana, and my father…_

The letter went on to explain the circumstances which led to the marriage, although Aragorn did not miss that Legolas had been careful not to say much about Alanna's reasons, and had stuck only to his. When he reached the end of the explanation, Aragorn closed his eyes and shook his head. It was so like Legolas to sacrifice his life, as he knew it- because that was what he was doing by marrying a stranger- for the sake of someone to whom he owed next to nothing. Aragorn knew the Elf would always blame himself, irrationally, for being the reason why Ivana had had to feign her death and live without her family for so many years, but it was NOT his fault. It had been her choice, not his. However, Legolas would never see it that way. His friend was _insufferable_ sometimes in his reasoning.

Then the letter went on to describe Alanna. Aragorn was highly amused by Legolas's account of their first meeting, where her clumsiness had caused her to fall into his arms, sending him crashing to the floor, winded and drenched. He chuckled at the thought of how he would tease Legolas mercilessly about how he had 'fallen' in love with Alanna at first meeting. Well, perhaps not the love part. But still, it really was hilarious. How his friend got himself into these dilemmas was beyond him.

_As time goes by, and I see more and more of Alanna, I grow more and more perplexed by her. She is very hearty, open, honest and spirited, but I think she has fingers made of butter. In four meetings she smashed three vases. And she has this peculiar frankness; it isn't offensive, exactly, but she has a knack for making me feel uncomfortable, which I would gladly do without. For example, she comments quite openly that I'm handsome. But it's so matter-of-fact, I never know if I'm supposed to thank her, or ignore her, feel flattered, or even somewhat insulted! And then, she keeps going on about my 'dry' sense of humor, as she calls it. I didn't even know I HAD a sense of humor, so I don't see what 'wet' and 'dry' has to do with anything.._

_And worst of all, she keeps putting herself down. At least once every meeting, she has to say something like, "I can't believe that you chose ME, of all people." And the way she says it, it's clear she doesn't value herself, or her appearance, which is admittedly not especially beautiful, but it is hardly something to abhor! And when she says that, I don't know what I'm supposed to say. I tried asking her why she keeps belittling herself, but for some reason, she became very upset. Not because of me, I wasn't being offensive, but something distressed her. She was actually crying._

_Then I tried to praise her (think perhaps she was hoping for a little praise) but she scoffed at me and waved my awkward speeches about her breath-taking beauty to the four winds with the greatest indifference. So now, I just don't respond when she says things like that, but it's still uncomfortable and I fear to give her the impression that I'm ignoring her. I have a strange feeling she wants me to laugh with her at herself, but how could I do that; it's impolite, and besides, I don't even know her, so I could never behave in such a familiar fashion!_

_Suffice it to say that I have no idea at all of what I'm doing, and I greatly need your help._

Aragorn raised his eyebrows. This, he had not been expecting. Legolas normally hated asking for help.

_I know it is strange that I'm asking for your assistance. But I'm going to spend the rest of my life with this woman, and try as I might, I just can't understand her. I don't want to spend the rest of my life like this. I know what I will ask of you is much, but please read the whole letter before making up your mind._

_First, I will start with the logical reason. I know you had good reason for being absent at the Graduation, but it was not well received all the same. The parents were particularly upset, as the children did better than they had expected, I think, and they wanted to show them off in front of you as well as me. In addition, you have not been coming regularly recently, and this news will be certain to reach them now, during the children's holiday, even if it hasn't already. The school is supposed to be OURS, not just mine, and everyone knows that, so at least for appearance's sake, you need to take a greater part in the proceedings. _

_I know you were also saying that your own people were not too pleased with your frequent absences to Greenwood_ _to teach a group of young Elves, even though they are SUPPOSED to be making up a combined army for Gondor and_ Greenwood. _Well I have a perfect solution for that, believe it or not. Why don't you bring fifteen to twenty strong lads here, as students and recruits, so we can both train them? Then the army will truly be one of Gondor as well as_ Greenwood_. And you'll have a valid reason to spend a year here, as well._

I'm not trying to compel you, and I hate to ask this of you. But women, and Alanna, as one of them, have always been a source of great mystery to me. You, who met and loved Arwen from the moment you saw her on her on your twentieth birthday, who have gone through every pain love could ever cause a man, who once thought your mortality would make yours a doomed love. I believe you know everything about what marriage involves and would be the one person best able to help me.

**_It is good to know I have uses_**, Aragorn thought, shaking his head, unable to decide if he was amused, exasperated, or flattered by his friend's reasoning.

_I eagerly await your response. In the other letter is the formal wedding invitation. The wedding is on the 26th of this month, that is, February. _

Aragorn's jaw dropped. **_So soon?_** **_Has he taken leave of his senses? _**

_I know, I know. It's very hurried. But please, do not try to change my mind. I hear objections from my father every other day. Just come, will you? Even if you can't stay for a year, the least you could do is attend your best friend's wedding. I hope to hear from you soon. Give my love to Arwen and Eldarion, and tell Eldarion I can't wait to meet him at last. I cannot BELIEVE I haven't ever met your son before, and he's already four! And it seems a long time ago since I last saw Arwen, as well. Write back quickly, please! _

_Yours affectionately,_

_Legolas Greenleaf, Thranduilion._

P.S. Alanna can't wait to meet you either. I can't think why.

Aragorn sat stunned for a moment, his mind reeling. "Arwen!" he called, "You will never believe this."

His beautiful wife hurried from her bedchamber with four-year-old Eldarion beside her. "What is it?"

"You'll never guess who is getting married."

"One of the Fellowship?"

"That's right."

"Gimli?" she asked, a little doubtfully.

"No," Aragorn exclaimed, laughing at the thought.

She frowned for a moment, then her eyes widened at his pointed look. "_Legolas?_"

He half-grinned, half-grimaced, and then said sarcastically, "Who else?"

"But how…? When…? Who…?" his wife spluttered. He couldn't blame her. She'd known him far longer than he had, after all, and even _he_ was still dazed by the whole affair.

"How? A matter of duty. I cannot explain fully without breaking his trust, but it matters not. Suffice it to say, that it is not a marriage of love, on either side. Not yet, anyway. Who? A woman named Alanna, apparently. She has lived all alone all her life in an empty castle, so she probably is even worse at relationships than Legolas is. And that's actually saying something." He sighed, frustrated. "When? I still cannot believe it, he hasn't even troubled himself taking the time to get to know her. He is planning to marry her on the 26th- of _this month_!"

"Whatever is he thinking?" She exclaimed incredulously, "He has…taken leave of his senses!"

_**That's exactly what I thought.**_

"He wants me to stay with him for a year," he said, instead, "Something about me being able to help him, and him having no idea what he is doing, and women being a mystery…" He groaned, "And I cannot refuse him. He really sounds panicked and…desperate. But…"

"The Kingdom will keep without you. He needs you more, now. Besides, it will be a well-deserved vacation. For all of us." She put her arms around his shoulders and kissed him on the side of his jaw, reassuring him with the small gesture.

"All of us?" He echoed.

"You do not expect me to part with you for an entire year, do you?" she scoffed, "Eldarion and I will stay with you at Greenwood. I doubt Legolas will mind."

"No, he would not, not at all," Aragorn replied, "And he has a point. The school is mine as much as his. And maybe introducing Men to it is what is needed to stop the tongues from wagging on this front." He gestured out of the window towards the city.

"Ada?" Eldarion asked, who had been tugging on Aragorn's shirt for a while now.

"Yes, Eldarion?" Aragorn said, dropping on one knee before his son, so he was level with him.

"Am I getting to meet my Uncle Legolas at last?"

"Yes, Eldarion," Aragorn said, rolling his eyes. "And your Aunt Alanna." Then he winced. "Aunt Alanna…maybe that's a little too much, too quickly. Valar. He's getting married…" He shook his head, and swung his son up over his head and placed him on his shoulders. The boy giggled in delight, but Aragorn's heart was not in the child's play. He was wondering how lost Legolas must be feeling in such a strange, awkward, _extraordinary_, and no doubt painful situation. Which he brought upon himself. **_That Elf will be the death of me…if he doesn't do himself in first._**

TBC…

Next chapter! The wedding! And the wedding night, as well! Which are you looking forward to more? Be honest…(grins naughtily and bows out).


	15. The Wedding

Title: Until We Reach Valinor

Chapter 15: The Wedding...

NOTE: This story is sequel to "A Teacher's Duty" and you'll have to read that one first to understand this. Also, this story does _not_ contain slash, and it is _not_ a romance, despite what the first chapter might suggest.

SPECIAL THANKS to Orlando's Sweetheart for helping me pick the name of Legolas's bride-to-be as well as the title of this story. Also, thank you to Cassie for her wonderful beta-reading, and for helping me phrase the wedding vows!

WARNING- this chapter contains sexual references, but so mild only a nun would find it objectionable. :D

…

"So, we finally get to see the lovely lady in person today," Aragorn said sardonically.

"Yes," Legolas said distractedly, his normally perceptive mind completely missing his friend's sarcasm as he fidgeted with the silver buttons on his tunic in uncharacteristic nervousness.

"Melonamin, do not worry so much," Aragorn said soothingly, clasping his shoulder gently, "You will get through this and live to see tomorrow. I promise."

Legolas muttered a scathing response under his breath before fixing his eyes on the door again. People were starting to file in through the main entrance of his father's throne room, which had been chosen for the location of the wedding. The place had been transformed; it looked more festive than he would have every believed possible. The wooden platform on which his father's throne was placed was carpeted with red velvet; and the altar before his father's throne was strewn with flowers.

Right beside the throne were placed two chairs, where Legolas and Alanna were expected to sit immediately after the wedding for the gift-giving ceremony. A large wooden box had been placed right next to the chairs for keeping the gifts. Rows and rows of benches were filled the hall, one column on the left, and one on the right, leaving a narrow carpeted aisle in between. Everyone knew what that was for.

"You should probably go and take your seat," Legolas said, "Arwen and Eldarion will be waiting for you, as will that overanxious aide you brought along. Where is he anyway?"

"Lined up on the sides, with the other servants, thank the Valar. I could do with some peace," He hesitated, "Will you manage not to kill yourself with nervousness and apprehension if I leave you alone?"

"Yes, Aragorn," Legolas said, rolling his eyes, "Weren't you the one who promised I'd live to see tomorrow?"

"That's reassuring," said an amused voice from behind them.

Aragorn and Legolas both turned to see Thranduil in all his kingly glory, from ceremonial robes to the _mithril_ studded crown on his head.

"Your Majesty," Legolas and Aragorn said in the same moment, bowing.

Thranduil scoffed, "Don't bother standing on ceremony now, of all times. We have a wedding to get through. Now remember," He said, turning to his son, "You have to keep a smile plastered on your face at all times, even if your cheek muscles hurt, which they will. You have to look as though you're enjoying the wedding, the food, the conversation, and most importantly, your wife's company. Even if it's an arranged marriage, you must at least seem as though you know each other and enjoy each others' company."

"Yes, father," He said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'll try to keep that in mind."

Thranduil silenced him with a paternal glare, and shooed Aragorn off, practically pushing him out of the small backroom into a corridor which would lead to the entrance. Legolas stared openly; his father _always_ stood on ceremony. He had to; after all, he was the King of Greenwood. It was rare to see him behave so familiarly with anyone.

Thranduil caught him looking, and smiled at him, amused. "It's you're _wedding_," he said, with a grin, "Even _I _am allowed to behave out-of-character for the most important day in my son's life."

"If you say so, Father," Legolas replied, a little peeved at the constant reminders.

Thranduil gave him a Look. "You just wait until _your_ son gets married."

Legolas blanched at the thought of having a son, as it made his mind jump inevitably to what would come _after_ the wedding. For some reason, this was happening far too often. Thranduil noticed his reaction and laughed.

"Don't worry," he said, clapping his son on the back with unrestrained mirth, "If you take after your father, you should have no trouble at all…on that front." He raised his eyebrows so suggestively that Legolas could have no doubt exactly _what_ he was referring to.

"_Father!_" he choked in horror, coloring.

Thranduil chuckled in response, leaving Legolas to shake his head in exasperation and embarrassment. _I did not need to know that. There are some things children just should not know about their parents._

"Oh, don't look so scandalized, Legolas," Thranduil said, chuckling at his expression. "_You're_ living proof that I'm well-versed in matters of the birds and the bees."

Legolas stared at his father in stark amazement mixed liberally with horror. _Where is all this coming from?_ He watched in wonder as Thranduil threw back his head and laughed more openly than he had in years at the expression on his son's face. He was jesting and laughing and smiling _so_ much more than he would usually. It was as if a burden that he had carried for years, no, _centuries_, had been lifted away, leaving his heart light and free…Was that what being King had cost him? He wondered, sobering at the thought. Were his duties going to burden him like they had Thranduil? What more was he going to have to sacrifice, that he was not already sacrificing by consenting to this marriage?

He glanced again at his father, who was, thankfully, completely unaware of his scrutiny and the thoughts prompting it. Determining that he would not worry over things that he could not help until he absolutely _had_ to, he shook himself mentally and looked out at the hall, which was by now almost completely full but for some stragglers. It was almost time. His father seemed to have come to the same conclusion.

"I think it is time. Are you ready?"

"Yes, Father," He lied. He would never be ready for this.

His father shot him a skeptical look but nodded and entered the hall from the left. A hush fell over the hall as he entered, followed by shuffling and scraping of chairs and benches as everyone rose to greet the King. Everyone sat again when he was seated. Then followed a long speech about how he was so happy and proud about his son's marriage, and how he hoped that Greenwood would respect her and love her as much as they did Legolas, as in two days, the two would be crowned King and Queen. As everyone was already aware that the marriage was arranged and solely for the purpose of Legolas being able to ascend the throne, this was met by polite clapping.

Then Thranduil rose again and stepped forward. Legolas froze momentarily as he realized that it was actually happening at last. As everyone else rose again, he walked slowly and regally into the hall from the same place his father had entered, and bowed low before the King, and then the people in attendance. There was a moment of silence, followed by the ring of silver trumpets and the sounds of minstrels singing to herald the start of the wedding.

A moment later, the doors to the entrance re-opened to reveal Alanna. She was dressed completely in white lace, and a bouquet of red roses was clasped in trembling hands. Legolas's eyes widened in horror as he realized the dress was as layered and voluminous as the dress she'd worn on their first meeting. Her face was obscured beneath a veil of transparent white gauze, but Legolas could still make out the apprehension plastered on it like a permanent fixture. Clearly she was as frightened as he was about her ability to reach the altar without tripping. With good reason.

Silence filled the room as the gathered crowd took in their future Queen for the first time. There was nothing amiss in her attire, but even the fine clothing and string of pearls could not disguise the fact that she was neither slim nor beautiful, in the conventional sense, to look at. She took a nervous step forward. The smattering of applause and muted mutters that filled the room made Legolas cringe on her behalf. It was a far cry from a welcome. But Alanna's reaction to this was surprised him. She straightened suddenly, and lifted her head high in a combination of dignity and defiance. Seemingly oblivious to the muttering around her, she began to walk slowly and with measured steps down the seemingly endless aisle.

Legolas felt his heart pounding on her behalf as he silently willed her not to trip over her dress and fall. The mingled looks of pretended indifference, apprehension and determination flitting in rapid succession across her face were not lost on him. He glanced around the hall, and felt an unexpected wave of pity for her. She had no family. No one present would support her. No one was here for _her_ sake. She was walking down an aisle to marry a perfect stranger, and there was no one there to even _sympathize_ with her. And still she walked as if daring the world to judge her, and mock her, and scorn her. Respect filled him as he watched, mute and frozen, as she climbed the steps with back straight and head high, and joined him before her father's throne. There was a moment of tense silence, and then Thranduil began.

"We are gathered here today to witness the unifying of these two lives into one for all eternity by the exchanging of rings to each other and the promise of fidelity for all time. Do you, Alanna, daughter of Keldarion and Alanna, take Legolas, son of Caladel and Thranduil, as your lawfully wedded husband until eternity fades?"

"I do," said Alanna, with every appearance of outward calm. But Legolas saw her crossing her fingers behind her back, and shot her wry look as he recollected their conversation on this point. Apparently she'd come around.

"Do you swear to love, honor and cherish him through all of his trials, tribulations, joys and sorrows?"

"I do."

"And do you swear to remain faithful and true to him for all time?"

"I do."

It was Legolas's turn.

"Do you, Legolas, son of Thranduil and Caladel, take Alanna, daughter of Keldarion and Alanna, as your lawfully wedded wife until eternity fades?"

"I do," Legolas said, crossing his fingers and garnering himself a Look from Alanna.

"Do you swear to love, honor and cherish her through all of her trials, tribulations, joys and sorrows?"

"I do."

"And do you swear to remain faithful and true to her for all time?"

"I do."

"Then remove your rings and place them on your ring fingers as a symbol of your commitment and eternal union."

The two complied, and turned to face the King. He stared at them for one long moment. "By the power vested in me by the respect you give me by considering me the head of your family, I pronounce you both husband and wife." He turned to Legolas. "You may kiss the bride."

Both Legolas and Alanna froze. They had both completely forgotten about this part_. Oh, no…_Kissing someone on the lips was a sign that you loved them, and Legolas did NOT love Alanna. The look in her eyes said exactly the same. But what choice did they have? With shaking hands, he lifted her veil, leaned forward, and brushed his lips across hers in the barest hint of a kiss, though he paused for a moment on her cheek so that it would not appear _too _brief.

Enthusiastic applause filled the room, the minstrels sang with renewed fervor, and the trumpets rang joyously in congratulations. Legolas smiled weakly at the assembled crowd, and feeling suddenly exhausted, almost collapsed into his chair. Alanna looked about the same, and sank down without the smile, her back slumping against the chair. That got his attention. Years of royal upbringing and being under the public scrutiny had taught him never to let his guard down in public. She had yet to learn that.

"Sit straight in public, and smile when people congratulate you," He muttered out of the corner of his mouth, wincing when he realized that he'd sounded like he was chastising a small child. _I **really **need to interact with older people more. Stupid teenagers._

But thankfully, she was not offended, on the contrary, she looked briefly apologetic, and immediately straightened and forced a smile. A moment's silence passed between them, save for the songs and chatter of those around them.

"I'm sorry I was compelled to kiss you like that," Legolas muttered, "I completely forgot about that part of ceremony, and could see no way of getting out of it."

"I forgot as well," She said with a look of forced stoicism, "Although I don't supposed we could have helped it even if we'd remembered." Her voice was a little unsteady in spite of herself, and he glanced at her, a question in his eyes.

"Don't mind me," She muttered, her cheeks slightly pink, "Just being ridiculously sentimental and impractically romantic, as always." She snorted softly, and dashed her hand across her eyes impatiently, clearly disgusted with herself. Legolas looked at her awkwardly; and then averted his eyes. What, he wondered hopelessly, could he _possibly_ say to console her that it was he, and not her lover, who she'd had to kiss at the altar?

…

"You should know," Alanna whispered out of the corner of her mouth, "A number of the Lords here, especially the unmarried ones, have been among the suitors your father sent over the past few years. We might get a few cold shoulders and odd looks from them. I did not part with any of them on good terms," She finished, sounding as though that was the biggest understatement in the world. Legolas glanced at her, and scanned the crowd a little apprehensively. He had _not _forgotten what she'd told him about her previous suitors' tempers,

"Why are you looking like that?" She asked, puzzled by his expression.

"I was just remembering what you said about how your previous suitors 'flew into rages.' I hope there won't be any trouble."

"Oh," She said, with a slight grimace, "I doubt there will be. I was exaggerating a little when I said that. There were a few…_raised voices_…but the majority of them gave me cold glares, dripping bruised pride and pompous indignation, favored me with some choice words and left, sullen and sulky. There was only one person who actually lost his temper." She sobered, "He was awful. One of the worst people I've met in all my life. He called me- oh, no, he's coming!" She hissed in his ear, her hands clenching on her lap.

Legolas rose hurriedly albeit gracefully, to greet one of the wealthiest, most powerful Elves in Greenwood. "My Lord Aradhel!" He exclaimed, bowing low before the Elf. Much as he, and Alanna, it would seem, disliked him, the Elf was too powerful to risk crossing.

"My Lord Legolas, Lady Alanna," Aradhel said, bowing low, "I must congratulate you. _Both_ of you," He looked pointedly at Alanna and she flushed.

"I have not seen you in court recently," Legolas cut in, trying to diffuse the situation.

"I have been busy," The Elf said dismissively, his cold gray eyes fixing themselves upon Alanna, who had yet to greet him.

"My Lord Aradhel," She said, and Legolas was startled by how stiff and cold she sounded. He hadn't thought it was possible for someone who was normally so warm and friendly, to sound like that.

"Well met, My Lady," Aradhel said, a slight sneer on his face. "I trust you are well?"

"Quite well, thank you, My Lord," Alanna said, in clipped tones, "And you?"

"Very well," The Elf said, sneering disdainfully, "I must congratulate you. You _have_ done rather _well _for yourself."

Alanna's face flushed in anger; she opened her mouth to retort sharply, but Legolas silenced her with a quelling glance. She shut her mouth and glared fiercely instead. Aradhel noticed the silent exchange and smirked at Alanna, giving Legolas a look of exaggerated sympathy that made his blood boil. The message was far too clear. The Elf was clearly trying to imply that Legolas would have his hands full keeping his wife in toe, and he, Aradhel, sympathized with him.

"Your wedding gift," Aradhel said, turning away from Alanna to Legolas in a very obvious dismissal. He held forward a large box, one which was sickeningly ostentatious, wrapped in silk and embroidered heavily with gold.

"Thank you," Legolas said, trying to sound as if he meant it.

Alanna defiantly raised her head, and shot the Lord a murderous look, adamantly _refusing_ to thank him, and Legolas could not find it in his heart to blame her. He sighed in relief as she nodded tersely in dismissal; at least she hadn't ignored the man completely. But she glared with open hostility at Aradhel's retreating back.

"I'm sorry I didn't behave as I should have, but that Elf makes me so angry, I see red whenever he happens by!" She crossed her arms and glared after him, and Legolas felt momentarily grateful that the look was not directed at _him_. "He was the one I was telling you about," She added glancing at Legolas before returning her angry gaze to Aradhel, "He said such awful things…"She hesitated, and then said so softly that he thought for a moment he misheard her, "struck me across the face."

Legolas jerked in surprise. "He did what!" He exclaimed in a whisper.

"I know. He does not seem the kind, does he? He seems to be all icy coldness and controlled sarcasm." She glared at Aradhel across the hall, who gazed back at her scornfully, "But, no. When he gets _really _angry, his temper is explosive. I hate him. Not because he struck me, because I suppose I may have been asking for that-"

"You DID NOT deserve to be struck!" Legolas exclaimed, shocked that she could feel this way, "Nobody deserves that! Why would you think you did?"

"Well, I'm not exactly beautiful, or wealthy save for the King's backing, am I? I have little appeal for Aradhel. He must have thought he was doing me a favor by deigning to marry me, so when I named my conditions, his pride was very insulted." She said, shrugging dismissively.

"He had no right to strike you," Legolas said, horrified by her attitude, "You can't seriously believe that you deserved it!"

She shrugged, favoring him with a tight-lipped smile.

"You cannot allow people to walk over you in that manner!" He exploded in an angry whisper, surprising himself by the vehemence of his feeling, "You should have more self-respect!" She stiffened at that, and he berated himself. He'd forgotten that this was a sensitive issue with her.

"Anyway," He continued hurriedly without giving her a chance to get upset again, "At least you were able to take his pride down by a few notches."

"Not likely," She scoffed, recovering herself with admirable speed. "That man is _insufferably _arrogant and will always remain so. I was merely going to say that, I could forgive him for striking me, but not for what he called me. You do _not _want to know," She added at his questioning look.

He nodded, accepting this, though he could not help feel a little curious. _Oh well_, he thought, watching Aradhel, who was eyeing Alanna with a malevolent expression from the other end of the hall; _I should that if things continue in this vein, I'm going to find out before the night is half over._ And unfortunately for all concerned, he was right.

…

TBC...

I know I promised to write the wedding as well as the wedding night, but the wedding took up more space than I thought it would. Oh well. Next chapter: a showdown with Aradhel, some hilarious situations, and, last but not least, the much-anticipated wedding night!


	16. And What Came Next

Title: Until We Reach Valinor

Chapter 16: And What Came Next

NOTE: This story is sequel to "A Teacher's Duty" and you'll have to read that one first to understand this. Also, this story does _not_ contain slash, and it is _not_ a romance, despite what the first chapter might suggest.

WARNING- This chapter contains some strong language.

SPECIAL THANKS to Cassie for her wonderful beta-reading job! While she didn't actually finish beta-reading it, I read it myself and spotted a lot of the typos she mentioned in her e-mail. Since she's 'off the radar' again, I decided not to wait any longer and go ahead and post this since it's already been a long gap. Oh and thanks to Kellen for helping me to name Alannna 'Alanna.'

…

Legolas watched in wry amusement as Alanna, for all her insistence that she was too nervous to eat anything, was unable to resist her sweet tooth. He had learnt from the few meals he had shared with her over the past month that she was very fond of anything sweet. Now, he watched as the rest of her food remained untouched while she nibbled on candied apple. _Honestly._ Sometimes her eating habits reminded him of a teenager's.

In fact, he her whole aspect could seem so very childlike and innocent at times; it really amazed him. Her laughter was lighter than any grown Elf he knew, and much more forthcoming. Her round face and twinkling eyes made her seem far younger than she really was and her personality exuded innocence and warmth.

Aragorn, for one, was quite taken by her. Legolas could tell that he was charmed by her frequent laughter and her vivaciousness. There was no doubt that the Man could not have approved of his wife more. He grimaced at the thought. He could foresee his friend trying to convince him that he and Alanna were 'destined' for each other, and since he could not tell him that she was already in love with someone else without betraying her trust, he knew he would come across as stubborn when he kept refusing to entertain the idea.

"…and then I tripped and he tried to catch me, but it was so wet and slippery that we both fell in a heap on the floor! My dress was completely ruined, and you should have seen his face; he was absolutely mortified!" Legolas forced a smile as Alanna related to Aragorn the story of their first meeting. Luckily, most of the table was occupied in their own conversations so no one but his father and Aragorn heard.

"You did not mention such an incident to me, Legolas," Thranduil said over Aragorn and Alanna's shared laughter, his eyes shining with amusement.

"I did not think it would be conducive to my dignity to relate the hapless incident, father," Legolas retorted, trying to muster said dignity.

"No, it certainly would not have been," his father replied, his blue eyes crinkling in amusement, "But it _would_ have been greatly conducive to my considerable amusement."

"Forgive me, father, but I was under the impression that my life's aim was something other than to serve as an object for your amusement," Legolas said, with searing sarcasm. "Or did I miss something when you were bringing me up?"

Thranduil was about to retort, but was interrupted by one of Alanna's not infrequent snorts of laughter. Aragorn was relating an amusing anecdote of his own this time.

"It was truly hilarious," The Man exclaimed, sounding unusually animated, "And the best part was- it was for a good cause! We did not intend to insult anyone! All we needed was a consensus on the number of married women, unmarried women, and children in the poorer parts of Gondor and Arnor, so we would known whom to aid and how best to do so. Does the task not seem simple? I directed my secretary to send a few of our men from house to house and ask the women in each house if they were married, and if so, did they have children, and if they did, how many.

"Neither of us calculated on the questions _offending_ anyone. Don't mistake me, everyone we sent was literate and most were intelligent enough to exercise discretion when asking questions, but there was one who would have surpassed anyone's wildest expectations of idiocy. He was bubbling with enthusiasm to serve me; so eager was he, that I daresay he forgot the original purpose of the questions. He knocked at the door, and told the woman who opened it that he had to ask some questions in the name of the King. Of all the things to do, he brought _my_ name into the mess! First he asked, 'Are you married?' and the woman replied, 'no.' And then," Aragorn paused dramatically, 'He asked, '_How many children do you have?_'"

Alanna burst into peals of laughter, and even Legolas' lips twitched in amusement.

"And if that wasn't enough," Aragorn said when his own mirth had died sufficiently so he could speak again, "The same thing happened five or six times, and when the man returned to report to the secretary he had fingernail marks on his face and a handprint on each cheek-" Alanna dissolved into laughter again- "and he raved and ranted at how so many women had slapped him and he could not think why. My poor secretary sat him down, and tried patiently to explain to him _why _he'd incurred the wrath of so many women. When the man displayed the most _incredible_ stupidity and adamantly _refused_ to understand, the good man, hit by a stroke of inspiration, told him to change the order of his questions. He told him to first ask the women if they had children.

"The next day, the Man went, and knocked on the door to the first house on his assigned street. A woman opened the door. He asked, 'Do you have children?' and she answered yes, and then he asked, 'How many?' and she said, 'four' and then," Aragorn gave Alanna a mournful look, "He asked, '_Are you married?'_"

Alanna lost the last of her self-restraint, and gave herself up to mirth. Her uninhibited laughter was drawing the attentions of more than a few Elfs around the hall, and Legolas shifted uncomfortably at the disapproving looks. Women were to be seen and not heard in this country, and while it was one thing to laugh, it was quite another to laugh like _that_.

He nudged her with his foot under the table, and when she raised streaming eyes to his, he pointedly shook his head.

Her laughter stopped so abruptly that no one present was left with any doubt that he had reprimanded her, and Legolas cursed Alanna in his mind, wondering _why_ she could not be more subtle. But Alanna was having more than a little trouble controlling her mirth. Aragorn's narrative had been truly hilarious, and Legolas himself had had trouble keeping a straight face during the telling. The woman tried; she pressed her lips together, the color rose in her cheeks and her shoulders shook slightly from her efforts to stop. Quickly, she speared a sizable chunk of candied apple with her fork and stuffed it into her mouth, to stifle the giggles, and Legolas heaved a sigh of relief.

He was just turning away from her to ask his father something, when he heard a fork clattering and a spluttering noise from beside him. His head whipped towards his wife- as did everyone's close by- and he saw, to his dismay that both her hands were at her throat, and there was an expression of wild panic on her face.

"Are you choking?" He asked, cursing her inwardly for not eating more slowly; and cursing himself for forcing her to drown her mirth.

She nodded frantically, her eyes bulging out slightly as she tried, and failed to breathe. Legolas hesitated for a split second, before bringing his hand down on her back, hard. The resounding _thwack _which followed drew everyone's attention, if they were not already watching. He continued to thump her on the back, with growing force when her condition did not change.

"Come on, come on, come on," He muttered, rising from his chair and nearly knocking her into her plate in his efforts.

But Alanna's expression grew only more panicked, and to his horror, her lips became tinged with blue. By now, half the hall was on their feet, muttering agitatedly. Aragorn leapt to his feet from before them, and ran as fast as he could around the agonizingly _long_ table. He seized Alanna by the arm roughly, and pulled her forcibly to her feet.

"Try not to lose consciousness, and don't panic; this will be over in a moment," He said in brisk, healer's tones, locking his hands around her midriff, and pulling her against him roughly. A half-choked cough; but Legolas's sigh of relief was short-lived as a large blob of half-solid apple flew across the room…and landed directly in Aradhel's face.

As Aragorn helped a gasping and clearly overwhelmed Alanna back to her seat, Legolas watched Aradhel with apprehension. The Lord froze in outrage. He reached for a napkin, wiped his face with calculated deliberation, and rose, seething. His boots echoed ominously on the floor as he walked with deliberate steps and stopped only when he was directly in front of Alanna.

She had not heard his approach over the sound of her own gasping breaths, and only noticed him when he was directly in front of her, blocking her light. Her eyes widened as he raised his hand, and she braced herself for a blow…Legolas's lightening-quick reflexes saved her. With amazing speed, the Elf intercepted the blow with his own hand, his fist closing around Aradhel's elbow in a bruising grip. The whole hall froze, and those who could see Legolas's expression shuddered at the unadulterated rage blazing fire in his normally cold blue eyes.

"How dare you," He said his voice shaking with barely restrained fury, "How dare you presume to raise a hand on my wife?" He was so incensed that he barely registered that referring to her as 'my wife' had not been as awkward as he'd anticipated it to be.

Aradhel looked outraged. He wrenched his arm away from Legolas's grasp, seething. "She spat in my face!"

Legolas cringed inwardly at the alcohol on his breath. This was _not_ going to end well. "She was choking!" he exclaimed incredulously, "It could have happened to anybody! Her actions were _not_ deliberate, and they _certainly_ did not give you reason to raise your hand on her!"

"You take her part against mine?" the Elf said, his voice rising till it echoed around the hall, "The word of a _slut_ against _my_ word, the word of the most respected, the most powerful Lord in Mirkwood!"

The whole hall gasped at his words, and even Aradhel paused as he realized what he'd said. From beside Legolas, Alanna whimpered as if she had been struck. He caught a glimpse of her face, which were streaked with tears. The sight affected him beyond anything he'd ever known, making him so angry that he almost lashed out at Aradhel then and there. He fixed his gaze on the offender, his blood boiling, but forced himself to speak with some semblance of control.

"If you do not retract those words, I will have no choice but to have you physically removed from here," He said in a calm, yet deadly voice. "And those who know me will testify that I do _not_ make idle threats."

Aradhel's expression changed, his lip curling in an _infuriating_ smirk that made Legolas clench his fists in suppressed fury. "You cannot know what you have married into, my Lord, or you would never have done so, and you would certainly never have stopped me from striking her. Let me enlighten you, then," He continued, with a scornful glance at Alanna that brought Legolas perilously closer to the edge of reason. "She proved to me herself that she is a slut, a whore, and a liar, in the truest senses of the words, and she will never, ever be true-"

He was cut off as Legolas's fist connected with his face. Aradhel yelped in shock and stumbled back, his nose gushing blood. Legolas's eyes blazed with a fire that made every other person in the room fervently thank Eru that his ire was not directed at them. He wished more than anything that it was not such a long walk around the banquet table; he would _so_ have loved to give the Elf a few more of those. He took a step forward, and leaned as far over the breadth of the table as he could without falling into the dishes of food.

"I told you I would have you forcibly removed if you did not retract your words, and you should have listened to me," He said softly, "You are no longer welcome here. When I am crowned tomorrow, my first act as King will be to strip you of your status as a Lord."

A gasp echoed around the hall; and Aradhel's eyes widened as he saw all the power and respect he commanded slip away with those few words. "You cannot do that!" he shouted, but this time his voice was tinged with desperation.

"You will find that I can, as of tomorrow," Legolas said coolly, "I will also cease all business dealings with you. You are not irreplaceable, contrary to what you seem to believe." He glared at Aradhel as the man flushed in anger and embarrassment, "And should you return here, or come anywhere _near_ either myself, or my wife," he paused for a moment to let the words sink in, "I will _not_ hesitate to use violence to make you leave. Now please leave of your own accord; before you humiliate yourself more than you already have by forcing me to drag you out," He turned away in disgust.

"You cannot do this to me!" Aradhel shouted, humiliated, angry, desperate, and horrified. In those few moments of unguarded inebriation which had loosened his tongue, he had lost the respect of the entire Kingdom, _and_ his powerful status. All he had left was wealth, and that would do little to help him when no one was willing to associate themselves with him. The Elf was completely and utterly _ruined_. And he knew it, too.

As Legolas turned from him in scornful dismissal, Aradhel launched himself across the table at him, murder in his eyes. Food flew in all directions, and glass dishes smashed to the floor. Shocked cries filled the air as people all around tried to get away from the drunken brawl that had taken place on the most auspicious of occasions. Legolas reacted with instinct honed by his many years of battle. He quickly grabbed Alanna, and pulled her away from the table so that she was out of harm's way. Aradhel's momentum carried him over the table and he landed unceremoniously at their feet, yelping as shards of glass from broken dishes cut into his hands cruelly.

"Guards, get him out of my sight," Legolas commanded, refusing to even grace the fallen man with even a contemptuous _look_.

The guards complied, and Aradhel struggled against them. "You will pay for this, miserable whoreson!" He said, manic hatred shining in his eyes as he struggled against the guards. In spite of himself, Legolas could barely restrain himself from shivering. He had never had such hatred directed at him, _ever_.

"You will both pay for humiliating me!" Aradhel continued, struggling furiously, "_You _will regret every day of your miserable existence that you chose to heed her word over mine!" This last was to Legolas, who flicked his eyes to the guard, his heart banging in his chest. _Get him out of here before this becomes worse_…The guards started to drag him, but he continued to struggle. "I will make sure of it! Every day, miserable whoreson, every day; when I've paid you back for this…" The door shut, drowning his voice. A stunned silence filled the room, and the only sound was the steady dripping of spilt wine. Legolas released a breath he had not known he was holding. All his fury died suddenly, leaving him completely drained.

He turned to Alanna. "Are you alright?"

She nodded, refusing to meet his eyes. He frowned slightly, concerned by the fact that she still had yet to speak. He tried to gauge her expression, but her veil had fallen back onto her face during the skirmish, and she was refusing to meet his eyes. "Your Majesty," He asked in an undertone of his father, "May we be excused?" He wanted to get her out of there was another scene.

Thranduil glanced from Legolas to Alanna with an uncharacteristically grim expression, and then nodded, an audible sigh escaping him. Legolas looked pointedly at his new wife, but she was too preoccupied with staring at her hands to notice him. He touched her shoulder, and she started, looking around wildly. He frowned;suddenly all too aware of the entire hall was watching their actions. Before he could have time for second thoughts he gently took her arm and guided her towards the exit, acutely aware that at any moment, she could trip over her dress and cause them both to fall. She actually did stumble once, but luckily he was able to steady her before anyone noticed. Finally, they had reached the door and turned a corner. Legolas breathed a sigh of relief.

"Are you…?" He began, letting go of her arm cautiously.

"Fine," She rasped, wincing and put her hand up to her throat to massage it.

He frowned, "Perhaps you should drink some water," He said, "There's a jug in my…_our_ bedchamber, if you can wait."

She nodded again, her eyes still averted. He glanced at her, wondering what to say, then settled on saying nothing. If there was something on her mind, she would share it; he knew it wasn't in her nature to keep things inside her. When they reached their rooms, Legolas wordlessly poured Alanna a glass of water, which she drank, grimacing each time she swallowed.

"Better?"

She nodded tersely.

"I might believe you if you actually _spoke_."

"I'm alright, thank you," a little hoarsely, but he let it go.

After a pregnant pause she rose a little stiffly and went to the adjoining dressing room with a muttered explanation of having to change into her nightclothes. Once he was sure that she had locked herself in securely, he quickly changed into his nightshirt, breathing a sigh of relief when she didn't come barging out to catch him unclothed. His mind turned to the scene in the banquet hall, and he closed his eyes briefly. He did not regret his actions, not in the least, but he fervently wished it had not come to that. It had been so…_explosive_. He shuddered again at the memory of the hatred in Aradhel's eyes. There was something so disturbing about it, so manic…

He lay down on his- no, _their_- bed (_Valar_, this was going to take some getting used to), and stared at the ceiling, lost in thought, until he heard the dressing room door open and shut. He watched out of the corner of his eyes, hoping to catch a glimpse of Alanna's face and gauge her expression. She had a painfully expressive face, he reflected. If only she would turn towards him…But she looked studiously away.

She emerged from the dressing room in a bright blue nightgown, completely oblivious to the fact that her soon-to-be-no-longer-white wedding dress was trailing over her arm onto the floor. She dumped the dress in an unceremonious bundle into the clothes basket, and then proceeded to wage a war with her hair, causing Legolas to wince on a number of occasions as she tried to extricate her long hair from innumerable hairpins. He wondered how the woman had managed to get her veil off without getting the pins out first. It must have considerably complicated the procedure- not to mention her current struggle to get the pins out. He winced again as the last of the pins pulled a few strands of hair off as she yanked at them forcefully, and began to attack her hair with a brush, pulling at it so hard that he had to wonder how she hadn't gone bald a millennia ago.

Finally she was finished, and she laid down the brush down and shook her hair back. It glinted suddenly with shades of red and copper in the candlelight, and he was caught by surprise, as he had previously supposed it to be a plain shade of dark brown. Yet as she moved in the candlelight it flowed down her back like liquid embers, and he realized with amazement that it was probably her most attractive feature. He would never have thought it could look so nice, as she normally tied it up.

As she bent over the candles to blow them out, he finally caught a glimpse of her face, and noted with apprehension that her eyes were ominously red and her cheeks showed traces of tears. If she turned to him for comfort, or burst into tears, he would have no idea how to go about it. But she did not weep; merely extinguished the candles and lay down. He waited with bated breath, but no words were forthcoming.

For the longest time, he stared at the ceiling, too preoccupied with the day's events to even consider sleep. Alanna's incessant tossing and turning would not have allowed it even if he had wanted to. Suddenly, without any warning, Alanna shot up in bed, causing Legolas to gasp involuntarily. He watched wordlessly as she got up with what sounded very much like one of Celin's huff, groped by her bedside and then proceeded to light the candles.

"Alanna?" He ventured, as she turned and stomped towards him. She started at his voice and stubbed her toe against the bed, hissed, and dropped the matches on the floor. With a groan she sank to the floor, from whence, after a good deal of groping under the bed, she emerged with creased nightgown and irritated expression.

"_Don't_ startle me!" She exclaimed with a glare, and the next thing he knew her long hair was swirling in his face as she bent over him to light the candles on his side. His breath caught as different shades of amber came to life in her hair. It was beautiful to watch; completely unlike anything he'd ever seen before, and different colors were revealed every time Alanna lit another candle. Really, she had the most beautiful hair…

Then suddenly, it was gone, and he could not help the pang of regret at its loss as he watched her storm grumpily around the bed and flop down on it with another huff. Legolas waited expectantly for her to speak, but was amazed and infinitely puzzled when she stared moodily at the bedclothes, apparently completely unaware of Legolas's scrutiny. _If she just wanted to sit there why on earth did she light the candles?_

"Alanna? Is there something wrong?" Legolas asked finally, unable to bear her just _sitting _there like that.

She turned to him, regarding him with a partly frantic, partly disgruntled expression. "Yes!" She exclaimed finally, in such an odd combination of exasperation, petulance and confusion that he stared at her in surprise. He sat up and rearranged his pillow.

"Is this about Aradhel?"

"Yes," She replied in a strained voice, "I just…I don't understand why you- defended me like that when…" She paused, struggling with herself, and then suddenly burst out, "You incurred the animosity of the most powerful person in Greenwood!"

Legolas blinked. Whatever he had been expecting, it hadn't been that. "Well, wouldn't you say he more than deserved it?" He asked incredulously.

"No! I mean, yes! _Yes_ he deserved everything you gave him for what he said but…"

"But?" Legolas prompted her.

"But your vow to honor me was not so binding as to compel you to incur _his_ eternal hatred just to uphold it!" She exclaimed after a moment's hesitation, "Did you _see_ the look in his eyes? Nothing is worth that kind of hatred!"

Legolas hesitated, suddenly aware that whatever answer he gave would affect her greatly. If he said he had acted as he did for appearance's sake, he would lose his one chance of showing her that she wasn't as worthless as she thought. But if he said it had nothing to do with the vows, that it had to do with _her_…he did not want to delve into the implications of that, not when she was regarding him with that eager apprehension. The problem was that he himself didn't know _why_ he'd been so incensed; it had seemed so natural that he hadn't even questioned himself until she had questioned him. And he had to answer _her_…

"I did not defend you just to keep up appearances," He said, throwing caution to the winds and making his decision. "Or because of the vows I made you. I defended you because in the little time I have spent with you I have come to know you at least a little. I know that you would never do anything to deserve that kind of slander. I know that your relationship with Rilian was too pure to be sullied by those words, because I know you don't give attachments lightly."

"Really?" She asked, clearly surprised.

_Really?_ He asked himself, more surprised than her. "Yes," He answered, both to her and himself.

There was a short silence, and then Alanna's face suddenly broke into a smile. "I thought you were just pretending," She said, the relief clear in her voice. "I thought you were going to start reprimanding me the moment we reached our quarters.

"Did my fury _seem_ feigned to you? And do you really think I'd start nagging at you right after you nearly choked to death?" He asked

"No," She said, "I suppose not…you were quite terrifying, actually. If I _had_ discovered your fury was feigned I would have second guessed your every word from this point on and always believed you to be always lying or acting."

"Well thank the Valar it wasn't acting then," intensely relieved that he had said the right thing. "As if I could act that well, anyway," He added as an afterthought

A comfortable silence descended between them, the first since they'd met each other. For a long time they sat, each lost in their own thoughts. "I'm sorry I could not control my mirth," Alanna said softly, ashamed. "I didn't think…"

"It isn't your fault. You didn't choke on purpose," Legolas reassured her, "It will take time for you to get used to what you should and should not do in public. We both ought to have realized that. Next time, try not to make it so obvious when I correct you. I don't want the entire Kingdom to witness me prompting you when you go wrong."

"I'll try to keep that in mind," She said, and then grinned. "I warned you about my blunders…" Legolas returned her smile, and then leaned over and blew the candles out. The days events were finally catching up with him; he was feeling exhausted and about ready to go to sleep. She too blew out her candles, and for awhile, darkness and quiet descended over the room.

Legolas was just about to drift off to sleep, when he was jerked to awareness again. "All said and done, though, you have to admit," Alanna said softly from beside him, "I couldn't have aimed better if I had actually tried."

"What?" He asked, confused.

She shifted beside him. "Can you think of anyone who deserved getting smacked in the face by half-digested candied apple more than Aradhel?" She asked.

He stared in her direction for a moment, unable to believe he'd heard right. And then he surprised them both by throwing back his head and laughing more uninhibitedly than he had done in years.

…

TBC…

I had been planning on making them have the real 'wedding night' but I doubted either of them would be up for it with everything else that happened, LOL. How did you like the chapter? It was quite dramatic and intense to write…I had writer's block for a couple of days after writing Aradhel's scene. Anyways, I think it was one of the better chapters in this story. Oops, before I forget, that joke at the beginning is from the Bollywood movie "Malamaal Weekly." I thought it was too good not to use. Thanks for reading, and please review!

* * *


	17. Love, Sacrifice, and White Lies

Title: Until We Reach Valinor

Chapter 17: Love, Sacrifice, and White Lies

NOTE: This story is sequel to "A Teacher's Duty" and you'll have to read that one first to understand this. Also, this story does _not_ contain slash, and it is _not_ a romance, despite what the first chapter might suggest.

SPECIAL THANKS to Cassie for her wonderful beta-reading job! While she didn't actually finish beta-reading it, I read it myself and spotted a lot of the typos she mentioned in her e-mail. Since she's 'off the radar' again, I decided not to wait any longer and go ahead and post this since it's already been a long gap. Oh and thanks to Kellen for helping me to name Alannna 'Alanna.'

….

The coronation seemed fairly anticlimactic after one of the most eventful royal weddings Greenwood had ever witnessed. It was a small, private affair (everyone wished to avoid the stares and gossip after the previous day's scene) with only enough witnesses to fulfill the law's requirements. Legolas and Alanna were both so preoccupied adjusting to the idea of being married that they could barely find it in themselves to be overwhelmed by the ceremony.

It was only afterwards that the full meaning of being King and Queen finally caught up with them. As was required by custom, each, with circlets in their hair, climbed up to the highest balcony in the palace to greet the- _their _people. The palace grounds were _packed_ with citizens, their applause so deafening, so enthusiastic, that they were barely able to hear Thranduil, who looked strange without his circlet, give his speech over the noise.

Neither Legolas nor Alanna registered a word of what was being said; they were both to busy taking in the sheer _numbers_. All at once, Legolas was able to completely empathize with Aragorn's initial reluctance to claim the throne of Gondor. This _responsibility_, the terrible duty of protecting and serving and _ruling_ all of these people was more than a little overwhelming. Dazedly, he registered the last part of his father's speech, marveling at how he could have missed it.

"…and suffice it to say that it has been an honor to lead you for all these long years, and you have made me proud to be your ruler. But now it is time to begin anew, and bless this country with new rulers who will lead you through this glorious new Age. Without further ado, I give you, Their Majesties Legolas and Alanna, the new King and Queen of Greenwood!"

Trumpets, the clear ringing of silver bells, and tumultuous applause rang through the air until the echoes reverberated among the trees. Thranduil discretely stepped back, and with full eyes watched his son and daughter-in-law parade the balcony hand in hand. Legolas was tall and regal, his steps measured and his face impervious as stone. Alanna was visibly awed and nervous, her plain, ordinary features contrasting sharply with Legolas's handsome ones, so much so that she looked completely out of place beside him in spite of the crown atop her head.

No one seemed to even notice her; they were far too preoccupied with Legolas, who cut an impressive and charismatic figure with his chiseled features and hair gleaming golden in the afternoon sunlight. Dearly loved by his people as he was, the joy at Legolas's crowning could not have been more genuine or exuberant. Thranduil smiled tremulously, watching with the fierce paternal pride as Legolas, every inch his father's son, raised a hand in acknowledgement and blessing.

Alanna gestured nervously in a failed attempt to mimic her partner, but everyone was so enamored by Legolas that they barely noticed her. It was something for which she felt extremely thankful. She felt like an imposter in her crown and ceremonial garments, and it did not help in the least that said crown was so precariously balanced on her head that she was in constant fear of it falling off. She was thankful that she'd be able to change this for a lighter, more comfortable circlet after all the fanfare was over What with trying to balance the crown on her head and trying not to trip in a spectacularly _Alanna_ gesture, she was more than eager for the ceremony to be over.

She could not help but envy Legolas; he seemed to fit so easily into this role. He was a born King, with his regal stature and unruffled countenance. _I've never seen this side of him before…_It reminded her how little she truly knew him. He knew her quite well, she was very sure of it. After all, she wore her heart on her sleeve; he'd have been an unperceptive idiot if he did not know her. But she did not know him at all. He was always so impassive, his face so blank and mask-like, his emotions so tightly guarded. She remembered the previous night, when he had surprised her by suddenly laughing out aloud. It was the first time she had ever heard him laugh; it was really amazing.

She laughed so frequently; in fact, some would even say too much, and in comparison, he was far too serious for his own good, she decided. Yet she had very little to complain about, she knew. She could not have found anyone better to suit her conditions if she had looked for a million years. He was always surprising her with his integrity and honor, like he'd done last night, for example, when he had shocked her by his vehement defense of her. She had done so little to deserve such a good husband, and she felt oddly guilty that her heart belonged to another. She could not in a million years see Rilian defending her in a similar situation.

She shook the thought off guiltily, just as the object of her reflections interrupted her thoughts. "Alanna?" She realized with a start that he'd been trying to get her attention for some time, and she'd been to preoccupied to notice.

"Sorry," She muttered, blushing slightly at her habitual inattentiveness, and took his proffered arm, allowing her to lead her back into the palace. She marveled at his reflexes when he steadied her almost _before_ she tripped over the red carpet. But thoughts of him soon faded away as the day dissolved into festivities as it was time for another celebratory feast.

…

It was nearing twilight that evening when Legolas found himself alone with his father for the first time since his wedding. Both were acutely aware that it would probably be their last chance to speak in private, as Thranduil was due to leave the next morning, and between preparations for yet another feast the next morning and the ongoing celebrations from his coronation, they would barely get a moment with each other before it was time to say goodbye.

They sat on a pair of chairs in a secluded corner of the hall, listening to the snatches of music and laughter that drifted to their ears from the scattered groups of the guests. Most of the Elves had retired already, and it was only his closest acquaintances that remained. Everyone present had either drunk themselves into unconsciousness, or was in the process of doing so. Which was not altogether surprising, Legolas thought, when the crowd consisted of individuals like Gimli son of Gloin and Eomer King of Rohan.

"How are you feeling?" Thranduil asked cautiously, after minutes of companionable silence had slipped by.

"Honestly?" Legolas asked, and when his father nodded, "Overwhelmed, exhausted and completely fed up. I feel how Alanna looks."

"Ah, yes," Thranduil said with a wry smile, "I remember my own coronation. It is indeed quite overwhelming, especially when you're wondering what in all of _arda_ you've gotten yourself into, agreeing to your father's crazy demands." Legolas smiled dryly, not denying the words. "Especially when you've gone and made a lifelong enemy of the most powerful person in Greenwood one day prior to ascending the throne," Thranduil added, very pointedly.

Legolas wry amusement faded, and he sighed heavily. He had known this would come up eventually; he'd been dreading it all day. "What would you have had me do, father?" He asked resignedly, "I could not very well have let someone strike my wife without intervening."

"No, you could not have," Thranduil conceded, "But you did not _sound_ as though you were defending her just out of duty, or obligation. Your fury seemed genuine and extremely heartfelt."

Legolas hesitated, not sure how to respond to such a loaded sentence. "So what if it was?" He asked warily.

"Your fury, Legolas," Thranduil said, "You would not have been so violently angry had no feelings for Alanna."

Legolas froze in shock, quite unable to respond to such a, in his opinion, ludicrous conclusion. His expression was completely misread by Thranduil who used it to seal his convictions. "You love her," He stated calmly, "Don't you dare deny it. Don't insult me by lying to me just before I leave."

"I…" Legolas began, but his heartfelt denial was completely arrested by the expression on his father's face, which was alive with joy and relief. He realized with a shock that Thranduil had hated compelling him to marry a complete stranger, hated that he would be the one to force a loveless marriage upon his child when he _himself_ had lived through the experience.

His father had been put in the impossible position of choosing between the happiness of his two children, and he had chosen Ivana. And rightly so, given everything she had sacrificed; but that would not prevent the former King from being plagued with guilt about his son's fate, especially since he did not, _could not_ know that marriage only bound them until they sailed. He would be burdened by the notion that he'd doomed his son to a loveless marriage for all eternity.

Unless… he told his father he loved Alanna. _What? Are you crazy?! Did he not just tell you not to lie to him? _

_ It's a white lie_, said another part of his mind which refused to be cowed, _you will spare both your father and sister the guilt of knowing that their happiness was bought from your sacrifice. The same guilt you yourself have lived with since you discovered Ivana's sacrifice for you. Say yes; and nothing will mar their happiness. But say yes, _his more selfish side reminded him, _and the last words you share with your father before he leaves will be blatant falsehoods. Insults._ He silenced that part of him quickly, berating himself for not being able to make such a small sacrifice without feeling so torn. He could not do anything else, in good conscience, but say:

"Yes, I do love her."

"Oh, Legolas, I knew it!" Thranduil exclaimed, clapping him joyfully on the shoulder. "You liked her the moment you saw her, didn't you?" He said, knowingly, "You've been visiting her much more often than once or twice a week. You snuck out without my noticing. Didn't you?"

"Yes," He said, profoundly aware that he'd uttered another falsehood. _They're white lies, _He reminded himself, _for ada's happiness. For **Ivana's **happiness. _

Thranduil looked at him, and he worried that his father would see through him, but he did not, merely reproaching his son for not telling him sooner, "I was so guilty to think I had bought my happiness at the cost of yours," He said, "As happy as I am to give up the burden of ruling this country, to make a new life with my family in Valinor, I would have been plagued by guilt that my happiness bought at the cost of yours. Why didn't you tell me before?"

"I was embarrassed that I'd fallen in love after declaring so often to you that I never, ever would," Legolas said, averting his eyes from his father's, as he was hit by the harsh realization of how little his father _truly_ knew him.

The thought stole his breath, and he found himself furiously blinking back tears. Thranduil should have known him better, should have been able to see through his lie for what it was. Even his students, whom he'd known for barely six months, knew him well enough to know that he would _never_ give attachments so lightly. If it had been in his destiny to fall in love (and he didn't believe it was), it would certainly never happened in a _month_. His friendship with Aragorn had taken _years_ to build, and had only been cemented during the War of the Ring and their shared hardships. How could his father believe that he'd fallen in love in _one_ _month?!_ He again pushed the thoughts from his mind, knowing they were futile and uncharitable; instead focusing on what Thranduil was saying.

"…I must say it really _is_ amazing that someone who felt that they were never destined to love anyone could fall in love in one month!" Thranduil laughed gleefully.

"This is exactly why I had no desire to tell you," Legolas muttered in reply, still refusing to meet his father's eyes. Luckily, Thranduil did not notice this, merely grinned indulgently and lapsed into silence. He heaved a sigh of relief, wanting more than anything to get off this topic and be left alone to gather his tumultuous thoughts.

"I may not have told you," Thranduil's voice jerked him out of his reflections some minutes later, "Or shown you enough, how much I care about you." Legolas turned slowly to face him, his heart clenching as he noted that his father's eyes were glistening. "But I still want you to know, if I ever gave you reason to doubt"- He swallowed thickly at that – "_Melethon le, Legolas_."

_I love you._ Legolas's breath caught at the words. Never before had he heard those words spoken to him. It wasn't as though he lacked in friends, but his obvious dislike for verbal expressions of affection had taught most of them to avoid sentimentality when they were around them. But sentimental as they may have been, the wordstouched a chord deep inside his heart, quite suppressing his instinctive reaction of awkward discomfort, and allowing him for the first time to speak what was in his heart without any hesitation.

"_Melethon le, adar,_" He said softly, his sadness that his father did not know him evaporating suddenly. "And…" His voice shook slightly on the words, "You never gave me any reason to doubt."

Thranduil smiled tremulously and with a shaky breath, he encased his son in a tight embrace. Legolas returned the hug fiercely, never wanting to let go, luxuriating in the feeling of safety and warmth and _love_ in his father's arms which he would never feel again. Or so he thought.

The warmth and the love still lingered around him when his father rose, placed a hand on his head in tender blessing, and walked away without a backward to rejoin the guests. It lingered when he himself rose to rejoin his wife, who was talking animatedly to Arwen and Aragorn. The warmth soothed him later that night, when he lay awake straining to hear the almost inaudible scraping and shuffling from the room above him as his father prepared to depart _before_ he was due to leave, probably so he could avoid the traditional royal escort to Valinor. And he realized with a rush of the sweetest joy he had ever known that he had been wrong. The warmth of his father's love would never fade; his until the end of time, there whenever he needed to recall it.

…

TBC…

Sorry it's been so long, I've been busy with studying and my applications. I promise once my A2 exams get done in November, I will start updating regularly. I have a six month holiday after that, and I plan to get this done before I go to University because I don't know if I'll have access to the net when I do go. Please be a bit patient until then! Hope you enjoyed the chapter.


	18. Of Epiphanies and Numenorean Literature

Title: Until We Reach Valinor

Chapter 18: Of Shocking Epiphanies and Numenorean Literature

NOTE: This story is sequel to "A Teacher's Duty" and you'll have to read that one first to understand this. Also, this story does _not_ contain slash, and it is _not_ a romance, despite what the first chapter might suggest.

SPECIAL THANKS to Cassie, for beta-reading my work. And to Kellen for helping me to name Alannna 'Alanna.'

…

It was later that night, when he and Alanna were getting ready to go to bed, that it suddenly struck Legolas that he should have spoken to his wife before telling his father he loved her. The realization filled him with dismay, and he berated himself for becoming so carried away that Alanna had just…slipped his mind. He cringed at the prospect having to go and seek out his father and confess to him that he'd lied if Alanna didn't want him to think they loved each other. His father would _not_ be amused. For a moment he considered not telling her, but he knew he'd never be able to live with himself if he did.

With a barely suppressed groan, he steeled himself and called out tentatively, "Alanna?"

There was a muffled yelp from the dressing room and Legolas blanched at the sound of shattering glass. "Have I not _told_ you not to startle me?!" came an enraged shout. "You made me break another vase!"

It was the first time she'd actually shouted at him. "Er…sorry!" he apologized the moment he regained his speech, cutting her off before she could continue on her rant, "It won't happen again. I merely wanted to speak with you." He cursed himself for not waiting till she had come out of the dressing time, though he privately didn't see how she could be startled when he'd spoken so softly. It wasn't as though he'd barged into the dressing room, or sneaked up on her and startled her. He supposed it was the outcome of living alone for so long, and cringed at how many vases would break when they were living with seventy teenagers. _The Valar help me, I'm going to have to replace everything made of glass on all my property if she keeps this up!_

"I'm sorry," Alanna muttered grumpily as she emerged some minutes later with an unbuttoned nightgown. "I didn't mean to shout at you. I'm just very clumsy and apparently, very easily startled as well, for some reason." She smiled sheepishly, "I'd better call Calianna to clean the glass up before I end up cutting myself."

"No, let that wait a moment," Legolas interposed swiftly, "I have to speak with you now, before my father leaves, or it will be too late."

"Too late for what?" She asked curiously, sitting down on the edge of the bed and looking up at him.

Legolas hesitated, "I told my father something which I should have spoken to you about first. I told him…I told him that I love you. I mean, _romantically_, love you." _Stating the obvious, _He berated himself, _Shut up._

Alanna was frozen, gaping at him like a goldfish. "You…how can you?" She asked, shock rendering her completely incoherent, "I mean, we've only known each other for…and I'm not exactly…not to mention I love Rilian-"

"What?" He asked in confusion, before his brain caught up. "No, no!" He said, blushing furiously, "No, of course I don't love you. I _said_ I did."

Alanna looked intensely relieved. "Thank heaven," She breathed, and then blushed. "Sorry I jumped to conclusions. I know you'd have to be possessed to fall in love with me." She laughed lightly.

"Oh, you aren't as bad as all that," He said uneasily, trying and failing to sound light hearted and familiar. He cringed inwardly; the words had sounded forced and insincere.

"Of course I am, and don't argue," She told him, supremely unaffected by his discomfort, "Just answer this: why would you tell your father you loved me if you didn't?"

"To spare him the guilt of knowing that he had condemned me to all the woe of a loveless for all eternity," Legolas told her, and, after a moment's hesitation, sat down beside her on the bed. "You see, my father has his own reasons for sailing and they cannot be avoided. He is as duty-bound in this as you or I. He's going to start a new life, and I don't want him to regret forcing me into this, when I agreed to it willingly. Besides, he'd already jumped to his own conclusions after watching me spring to your defense last night." He shrugged, "He was convinced I loved you, and when he asked me if I did, I just said yes."

She studied for a moment, before asking, "And why exactly are you telling me this? What do you expect me to say?"

"It's up to you what you want to say. I just realized that it was wrong of me to just _say_ something like that without asking you first, and if you object, I will be more than willing to go up and explain the situation to my father. That's why I wanted to tell you now, and not tomorrow, because by tomorrow he'll be gone, and it will be too late."

She stared at him for a long moment, a strange light in her eyes. "I wouldn't dream of making you do something like that," She said softly, "I respect you for telling me, but rest assured I have no objections." She rose, and made as if to walk away, but paused a moment before turning back to him. "You know, it was a very selfless thing you did, lying to your father." Legolas stiffened, wondering where this was leading. "Not only did you lie to him just before you were leaving, you lost your one chance of confiding in someone who actually _knew_ what you were going through. Oh yes," She added as he started, "It may have happened before my lifetime, but I know your parents had a marriage of convenience just like ours."

"I'd hardly call this _convenient_," Legolas interjected before he could stop himself, a little irritated that she had probably known about his parents' marriage before he had.

"No, it is not _convenient_ at all," She laughed in agreement, "But you must be wondering how I know of your parents' marriage when no one speaks of it anymore."

"Yes, I am, actually," he confirmed.

"Well, Rilian was much older than me when we met; he was a teenager in the time when your father adopted Ivana Oakenshield's as his heir, and, naturally, lived through your mother's death, your birth and Ivana's untimely ending as well. I always thought her fate was very tragic and undeserved. The mere thought that this country might have been ruled by a _woman_…" She broke off, and looked at him apologetically. "I'm sorry. I did not mean to say I think you are an incompetent ruler."

"No, that's…alright," Legolas said, completely unnerved by her casual reference to things no one had ever spoken of before, least of all to him. The realization that she had known his family history before he did was thoroughly disconcerting.

"It's just that," Alanna continued musingly, oblivious to Legolas's discomfiture, "It would have been so wonderful if a woman ruled Greenwood. Women would have finally been treated with respect and…" She cut herself off and smiled ruefully. "I'm dreaming. I doubt that will ever happen in the next…why are you looking like me like that?" She frowned.

"Oh, it's nothing," Legolas said, flushing slightly and hastily looking away from her, "It's just that people don't usually talk about these things, and never to me. You just took me by surprise."

"Oh," Alanna said, frowning slightly, "Well I'm sorry if I offended you…"

"You didn't," Legolas hastened to assure her. He cleared his throat, "So…you are sure you do not mind my telling my father that I was in love with you?"

"Yes of course," Alanna said, "It's just that you've now lost the one person you can confide in, and I don't think it was right to lie to him when…"

"That's alright, Alanna," Legolas tried to convince both himself and her, "I'll be perfectly fine. I don't need a confidante."

"Yes you do. Don't think I don't realize that this is difficult for you as well, perhaps even more so than it is for me. I at least have something to live for. I experienced love in all its wonder and glory, and I have a joyful future with Rilian to look forward to when we reach Valinor. You will never have a chance to experience love."

"Maybe I'm not meant to experience love," Legolas replied, "Maybe I'm incapable of it. And maybe I've already come to terms with that."

"That's not true," She shot back, horrified that he could think that way, "Everyone's meant to experience love. Life would be inconceivable without it."

_Eru, not another romantic_, Legolas groaned to himself. _The Valar help me, she could be Aragorn's feminine embodiment…which is a rather disturbing thought._ He shuddered slightly and shook it off before he had a chance to dwell on it. "I cannot miss what I have not experienced," He said in reply to her what she'd said, "And my life has been perfectly fulfilling without it."

She stared at him wordlessly, horrified by the epiphany which she had suddenly come upon. Because he was married to her, he would never have a chance at love. If he had been a little less honorable, she knew that he might still have found love while still being married to her, but being who he was, he wouldn't so much as look at another woman in a remotely romantic light; he'd view it as compromising his vow of fidelity. _I should be thankful,_ she thought, not missing the irony_; it's what every woman would dream off in a husband, complete honor and fidelity. _But instead she was filled with regret that she was unable to appreciate what she had been given, and that because of her, he would never have a chance at love in his life. And most of all, that there was precious little she could do to fix it.

…

The very next day, Legolas commenced shifting his and Alanna's things to the school, which was going to be their permanent home. He knew it was rather fast, but sharing two nights with a stranger in the room that he'd grown up in had been difficult enough, and he didn't want this particular room, where he'd been born, where his father had read him bedtime stories and where Ivana, or Elchim, as he knew her them, had taught him history and geography and arithmetic, to go from going from being _his_ to _theirs._ He had only lived in his quarters in the school for six months, and he was a lot more comfortable with the idea of sharing that with Alanna than this.

She had a lot more belongings than he would have thought possible. He had budgeted for one large horse cart to carry her clothes and other belongings, which was an accurate conjecture, but he had _not_ expected that she wanted to carry some six hundred books with her as well. He had not even known that she enjoyed reading, so it took him by surprise when she insisted on driving him nearly insane with her exhaustive analysis of every single book in the e_normous_ library as she tried to decide which ones she could bear to be parted with. And worse still, she would often get caught up in books while sorting through them, so that when he'd come in to check on her progress, he'd invariably find her sitting amidst a pile of books completely engrossed in something or the other. Legolas had to threaten, reason coax, cajole and finally _beg_ her to limit herself to two cartloads.

"You'll be able to come here later, you know; this library isn't going anywhere," He said, affected in spite of himself by the mournful look on her face. When she didn't cheer up, he played his trump card. "You know, we have quite an extensive library at the other palace as well, as I'm sure you'll be-"

"You _do?!_" she interrupted, all traces of displeasure gone from her face, and Legolas had to smother a smile when she turned to him with eagerness reminiscent of a child's when presented with a new toy. "Why didn't you say so?" She asked him, the embodiment of enthusiasm, and his smile faded as he realized he'd started a conversation on literature, something he did not enjoy in the least. _The Valar help me._

"Tell me," She continued, to his dismay, "Do you have any good Numenorean Literature? I love Numenorean poetry, and my collection is rather lacking when it comes to…"

Legolas's mind tuned out of the conversation while she waxed eloquent for about five minutes on Numenorean. He noted with surprise that he had never seen her so enthusiastic about any subject before; and the difference it made was quite remarkable. Her face and eyes sparkled with animation; her speech suddenly became articulate and pronounced; a clear contrast from her usual style of speaking in almost-mumbles. Even her gestures became more exuberant.

"You know," He said loudly when she paused to catch a breath; "Aragorn is very fond of Numenorean Literature and poetry himself. It is, after all, a part of his heritage. I'm sure he'd be very interested to hear your views on the subject. At any rate, he would certainly appreciate them more than I."

"Oh, I couldn't possibly," She said, sounding, to his surprise, unnerved at the prospect. "He's…his own contributions to the field are so…" the esteem she held him in was made obvious by her awed tone, "I would sound like a complete novice if I started such a conversation with him."

He started at her incredulously. "Are you quite yourself, Alanna, or did you just get infected by some form of potent spider venom I haven't heard about?!" He exclaimed, shaking his head, "In all my long life, _I_ haven't met anyone as enthusiastic or well-informed on the subject as you, and he's lived for a lot less time than I have!" He paused, and stared at her incredulously, marveling at how she could so grossly underestimate herself. When she failed to look convinced he added emphatically, "He would be _thrilled_ to hear your views!"

"You think so?" She asked, full of eager anxiety.

"Yes, of course," He said firmly, "Now stop moping around here; it's time to leave. Have you decided which books to carry?"

"Yes," She said brightly, and then added to his disbelief, "And you're helping me put all the others back!"

Legolas's eyes traveled around the room and he immediately shook his head as he took in the books piled haphazardly everywhere. "There is no way in all of arda you'll get me to do that. Ask the servants to do it, why don't you?"

"I am _not_ trusting the servants within a league of my books!" She exclaimed, "Besides, most of them are busy with loading my other belongings onto the cart." She grinned impishly, "So you're helping me instead."

"I am not!"

"Oh, yes, you are!" she told him, in a tone that brokered no argument. "Because the sooner we leave from here, the sooner we get to that library! So you're going to help me if it's the last thing you do!" She put her hands on her hips and glared at him.

If a wall had been anywhere in sight, Legolas would have been sorely tempted to dash his head against it in frustration, but as it was, he had little choice but to assist her if he didn't want to risk premature death. But somehow, even though he moaned and groaned at the injustice of being put to the task, he could not find it in his heart to be _really_ annoyed at her display of bossiness. He did not know it then, but he would grow rather fond of it in the years to come.

…

TBC…

Thank you all for reviewing last time, and I hope you all do this time as well. Hope you enjoyed the chapter.


	19. Act of Necessity

Title: Until We Reach Valinor

Chapter 19: Act of Necessity

WARNING: Sexual content, in this chapter, not graphic of course, but it's still there.

…

"You know, that wife of yours is really quite remarkable," Aragorn remarked conversationally during an evening walk around the school grounds.

"Oh, so she finally worked up the courage to tell you of her passion for Numenorean Literature," Legolas concluded with amusement, "It took her long enough. I was beginning to think she'd lost her nerve."

"What do you mean?' Aragorn asked, confused.

"She holds your work in the highest esteem," Legolas explained, "She said she would sound like a novice airing her views to you, considering the superiority of your own contributions."

"Sound like a novice?!" Aragorn exclaimed incredulously, "But I've never met _anyone_ who was better informed on the subject in my life! And did you know she writes poetry as well?"

"She does?" Legolas said, taken by her surprise. He would never have guessed that Alanna had a streak of creativity under all her eccentricities.

"Yes, and she's extremely good at it," Aragorn replied, his tone showing his admiration for her work, "She kept insisting that her work is nothing compared to mine, but I thought she was merely being polite. The truth is; her work is _leagues _ahead of mine, especially in terms of scansion and rhyming. She also uses very original combinations of modifiers; I've never read such analogies before. And that's not to mention the fact that she's invented her very own verse form; rhymed sestets. It's so difficult to get a quatrain to rhyme properly, and she's able to do it with sestets! And she thinks she's nothing compared to _me._"

Legolas could do nothing but stare in amazement. He had understood very little of what Aragorn had said, filled as it was with literary jargon which, but he had gathered that his friend considered Alanna to be something of a literary genius. "Eru," He breathed, shocked as he realized the true extent of her self-depreciation, "She really has no idea how grossly she underestimates herself. She has absolutely no sense of self-worth." He shook his head musingly, "I suppose it comes from her having no human contact for the first two thousand years of her life. No one to appreciate her or her work or to tell her how good she was. It would certaintly explain her lack of self-confidence."

"Two thousand?" Aragorn said slowly, "I thought…hasn't she lived alone all her life, for three thousand years? Isn't that what you said in your letter?" When Legolas did not answer immediately, his eyes widened in realization. "Oh, Valar," He breathed, horrified, "She…her poems, she started writing them a thousand years ago…"

"Aragorn…?"

"She was in love with someone, wasn't she," Aragorn continued, and Legolas's eyes widened in surprise, "Someone who she met one thousand years ago, who died three _hundred_ years ago...but she told you about it? Why? Why would she want you to know?"

Legolas was staring at his friend in shock. "How…how could you know that?" He sputtered incoherently.

"Her poetry," Aragorn explained, "She only started writing a thousand years ago. Her first few poems were about loneliness, then there was a series of prose pieces with an existential theme, where she appeared to be questioning her sense of self, then she wrote about companionship and love and marriage, and last of all poems about death…those were the most poignant and heartbreaking of the entire collection. I didn't realize what it meant until you let slip that bit about two thousand years."

"Do you mean to tell me," Legolas asked incredulously, "That you inferred all of that just from reading her _poetry?_"

"Well, yes," Aragorn answered, matter-of-factly, "If you ever wanted to understand your wife, all you'd have to do is read those poems. They're a reflection of everything she's ever felt in her life which was of any import to her at all. A bit like a diary, or a journal. I don't think she realizes how much of herself she puts in them, or she would never have shown them to me or anyone else." He paused and looked at his friend. "Legolas, what are you doing? Why are you married to someone who is still clearly in love with someone else, especially when you knew about it beforehand? You know you can never hope for a relationship with her when…"

"Aragorn, even if I _wanted_ a relationship with her, which I don't, I couldn't have one," Legolas interrupted him. "We had an agreement. She told me about Rilian on our first meeting. She said she met him a thousand years ago, and that he affected her life profoundly, that she wouldn't be the person she is today if it wasn't for him. I understand they were engaged before he was killed in a skirmish with some orcs. She still loves him and always will, she told me in so many words. She also told me she could only marry me on one condition; that I agree to sever all marital ties with her when we sail to Valinor. She said Rilian would be waiting for her and that she would not, could not disappoint him. I agreed to her conditions willingly, because I wasn't too ecstatic about the prospect of a lifelong commitment to a perfect stranger either. The arrangement was perfectly mutual and suits both of our needs very well."

"But if she was in love with Rilian, why didn't she just sail after his death? She doesn't have very much to live for here, does she?"

"Her mother made her nurse promise to take care of her and see her happily married, and my mother made my father promise the exact same thing to her. My mother and hers were apparently very good friends. Alanna is an honorable woman who doesn't want to push the burden of a broken promise onto her nurse or on my father. Not to mention she herself feels duty-bound to fulfill her mother's wishes."

"But Legolas, how could you have agreed to those conditions?" Aragorn asked in a mixture of exasperation and dismay, "What if you fall in love with her? And have you considered that she will need to provide you with an heir? She will feel like she's betraying her love by becoming intimate with you! How can she live with that? How can you both live with transforming an act of boundless love into an act of compulsion, of necessity?"

"Don't you think we discussed all that already?" Legolas asked in unveiled exasperation, "She said it was a sacrifice she was willing to make, and so am I. And," he added before his friend could interrupt again, "As for my falling in love with her, you know I never will. I'm not made for that kind of love."

"Not made- Legolas, how can you even _say_ that?!" Aragorn exclaimed with frightening intensity, "Everyone is made for that kind of love! And you are an Elf; you'll live for all eternity, so sooner or later, love _will _enter your life, and _then _what will you do?"

"Aragorn, I am sick and tired of you and Alanna airing those idealistic views when it helps no one and nothing!" Legolas exclaimed angrily. "_If_ love enters my life while I am still married, I will simply turn my back on it and walk away. Even if, as I know you think, I will never be able to, and never should forget my love completely, I will do it because my duty to Alanna requires it of me. There is nothing you or I or Alanna can do to change this situation, so _please stop_ arguing with me about it. There is no point"

A long pause followed this statement. Aragorn felt suddenly ashamed for forcing his opinion upon Legolas; he wasn't being very supportive. He knew Legolas was right; there really _was_ no point in discussing what-ifs and might-have-been's when his friend was already married. For the first time, he realized how _lucky_ he was to be married to Arwen. How blessed he was to be in a relationship which had no uncertainties, where both he and his wife knew exactly what was expected of them, and exactly what their marriage required of them. Legolas was completely lost in this respect. He didn't know what sort of relationship he should, or even could, have with Alanna. How close should he get to her? Exactly what behavior was acceptable and what wasn't? Should he be striving for a friendship? And then he realized the real motive behind Legolas's plea for help in his letter. Not, as he had implied, because he didn't know what to make of Alanna, because he was fairly sure by now that Legolas understood her well enough to get on with. What Legolas needed was to determine exactly what a marriage under these conditions meant for him. _And_, he thought guiltily_, I havent helped him figure that out at all_. He sighed deeply.

"You're right," He told his friend. Legolas' eyebrows shot up at how quickly the man had acquiesced. "I'm sorry I pushed so hard. I know I shouldn't judge your marriage on the terms I judge mine with because our situations are very different. I know I haven't been too supportive lately, and for that I'm sorry." He paused to allow this to sink in before continuing. "From now onward, anything you need to ask me, you can come to me, and I promise I will bear in mind the conditions of your marriage when I give you my advice."

A profound look of relief crossed Legolas's face before it was disguised in a display of feigned disbelief. "_Well,_" He drawled, "_That_ was quick. I was expecting it to take the entire year to get you to come around."

"Oh, don't exaggerate," Aragorn returned, "Give me _some_ credit; I'm not _all_ that stubborn."

Legolas scoffed at him but neither was in the mood to continue bantering so they lapsed into a companionable silence, each preoccupied with his own thoughts during the remainder of the walk. At length, Aragorn registered the position of the sun and exclaimed, "Valar, it's getting late! Our wives are going to be furious if we're late for tea!"

"_Yours_ will," Legolas replied, "Mine will probably be lost in the library again. I swear she would forget to come for her meals if I didn't remind her." Aragorn laughed, and Legolas was suddenly conscious of how frightfully _domestic _their conversation had become. Never in a million years would he have imagined that there would come a time when he and his friend would complain about their wives to each other, and yet here they were. _Oh well_, He thought, _stranger things have happened._ They walked back to the school and he excused himself and went to seek for Alanna in the library.

…

Some hours later, Legolas was sitting in the study and researching some of Greenwood 's legislation so that he could determine the appropriate action to be taken to solve a property dispute between two Lords of his court, when he was interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Come in," He called absently, guessing it was his majordomo come with more books, but when the door opened, the candlelight revealed his wife standing in the doorway looking unaccountably nervous.

"Alanna?" He asked, a little alarmed by her pale countenance and trembling hands. "Are you well?"

"Yes, of course," She said, sitting down opposite him. Her rigid posture and the way she fidgeted anxiously with the buttons of her blouse did nothing to convince him. He waited for her to speak and when she didn't for a long moment, asked in a tone he hoped was reassuring and friendly enough to put her at her ease, "Alanna, you didn't come here to help me with this research did you? What's wrong?"

"I…" She began, but her voice squeaked in either nervousness or embarrassment so she had to try again. "I wanted to talk to you about…_you know._" At his blank look, she tried again, blushing furiously at the words, "I wanted to speak with you about what was _supposed _to happen on our wedding night. What we still have to, you know,-" she gestured vaguely in the air- "_do._"

_Oh. That. _For a long moment he just stared at her, shock and embarrassment robbing his ability to speak. Then finally, he managed a raspy, "Yes…?" He cleared his throat. "Right. Well, what about…_it_?" _It?_ _It?_ _What am I, a teenager?_ _Pull yourself together, Legolas._

"We have to," Alanna said, again gesticulating wildly, her face growing redder still, "…_you know_…some time or the other. And…" Her voice trailed off.

"Alanna, are you saying that you want to…_do that_… sometime soon?" _Please let me have gotten it wrong. Please._

"Yes, I …I mean, I obviously don't want it, but…" She trailed off again, visibly flustered. He waited patiently for her to continue. "Elves," She said abruptly, changing the subjects, "unlike humans, are very familiar with the way their bodies work because they live with their bodies for so long." She paused, fidgeting slightly and then told him. "What She-Elfs have come to understand which human women have not is that we are more likely to conceive at certain times of the months than others."

"….?"

"Legolas, what Im trying to say is that there are days on which women can conceive and certain days on which they cannot and today…is one of the days I _can._"

His eyes widened almost comically as he realized what she was trying to say. "You mean you want to…" He gestured helplessly, "…_tonight?!_"

"Neither of us wants to do this, but we have to," She explained in a rush, "We will probably have to do it more than once if we don't conceive the first time or if I do not bear you a son. I just thought that we should do everything in our power to make sure we have to do it as infrequently as possible."

"Oh. Well…alright." After all, what else could he say?

"So…" She paused, fidgeted a little and then asked, mumbling even more than normal, "Tonight, then?"

"Yes," Legolas said, trying not to panic, "Tonight."

…

How they got through the remainder of that evening neither of them could ever recall. Legolas abandoned all attempts at research and spent his time pacing frantically in his study, trying to remember everything his father had ever told him about the act of intercourse, and to wrap his mind around the enormous realization that no matter which way they looked at it, their intimacy tonight would be a final and _indisputable_ consummation of their marriage. At dinner, neither of them was able to look each other in the face; and this, coupled with their inability to speak to each other without either one or of them coloring, was so puzzling to Aragorn and Arwen that the conversation swiftly became stilted and awkward between all four of them.

All the same, in Legolas's opinion, the dinner was over all too quickly. Alanna disappeared into the dressing room the moment they reached their bedchamber, and Legolas quickly changed into his nightshirt and ducked under the covers, determined not to expose himself to her until the last possible moment. When she entered the room, it was wearing petticoats and lace rather than the customary dressing gown. He hastily averted his eyes from her until he knew she was under the bedcovers. There was an awkward silence which stretched on for minutes. At last, Legolas was unable to stand the suspense any longer and resolved instead to get this over as soon as possible. He cleared his throat loudly. When Alanna failed to respond, he said, "I suppose we should…"

Alanna interrupted him, her tone anguished and desperate in sudden denial and panic, "I can't do this. I can't…" She broke off, and in the candlelight he saw tears slide down her cheeks.

He shifted closer to her, knowing it was up to him to reassure her. "We may as well get this over with," He said gently, "I know this must be difficult for you…"

"No!" She interjected with sudden vehemence, "You don't know! This…my first time…it's supposed to be with Rilian, someone I love, not…" She broke off, shaking her head as more tears fell down her cheeks. She swiped at them angrily and took a deep breath before turning to face him. "I know I told you I was ready to make this sacrifice, and I still am. But…"

"Do not think of this as an act of love or of any special meaning at all," Legolas told her, remembering Aragorn's word from that evening, "Think of it as an act of necessity, something that needs to be done so you can give me an heir." He winced at how heartlessly _obligatory_ that sounded, but it was the truth, and no good could come from hiding for it.

"An act of necessity," Alanna repeated in a whisper, distraught.

"Yes," Legolas continued, refusing to let it go now that he had begun, "It means nothing to either of us. It's just one more thing that you have to do so you can be with Rilian, just like all those months of seeing suitor after suitor, or you're agreeing to marry me. You aren't betraying him, in fact, this will only _hasten_ your reunion with him, because you know you cannot sail until you sire me an heir."

There was a long, tense moment while Alanna visibly struggled with herself, but then her face cleared to be replaced by determination. She nodded at him and brushed away her tears resolutely. He sighed in relief, though not for one moment believing that his reasoning, logical as it was, could provide her any comfort or reassurance. She would still feel like she had betrayed her love tomorrow and in years to come, but there was little she or Legolas could do to help it.

"Is there anything…" Legolas began, "anything you would like me to do…or not do?"

She thought for a moment and said almost inaudibly, "Just don't kiss me. Anywhere."

"Of course I wouldn't. You needn't have told me that."

"What about you?" She asked unexpectedly.

"Me?" He asked, taken aback.

"What would _you_ like me to do or not do?"

"Nothing in particular," He responded after a long moment, "Just tell me if I'm hurting you."

"Are you sure there's nothing?"

Now he was the one checking with his feelings, seeing if _he_ was alright. How many more times would they exchange roles tonight? He wondered inanely, before answering, "Yes."

"Alright…" She drew closer to him, and he lay still, suddenly finding himself paralyzed with his own fears and doubts. She led him and first, and when her inhibitions rose to the surface, he overcame his fears and led herSlowly, they fumbled their way through that first night of intimacy, hurting and pleasuring; one moment awkward, the next reluctantly aroused; at once gentle and dispassionate, tender yet meaningless. And slowly, their act of necessity rose to claim them until they were falling endlessly into the dark, unwelcoming, undeniable, _inevitable_ truth of eternally binding consummation.

…

TBC…

And that, folks, was the long-awaited 'wedding night.' What did you think? Was it realistic enough or did my lack of experience in this department (after all, I am the product of a conservative culture and even more prudish parents) show through? I agonized over it for ages; by far the toughest thing I had to write in this story yet!


	20. Not Alone

Title: Until We Reach Valinor

Chapter 20: Not Alone

NOTE: This story is sequel to "A Teacher's Duty" and you'll have to read that one first to understand this. Also, this story does _not_ contain slash, and it is _not_ a romance, despite what the first chapter might suggest.

SPECIAL THANKS to Cassie, for beta-reading my work. And to Kellen for helping me to name Alannna.

DEDICATION: This chapter is dedicated to my beta-reader, Cassie, because she recently lost a good friend and this chapter therefore had special meaning for her. I hope you have someone in your life who will help you through _your_ loss like Legolas does.

In the week that followed that first night of intimacy, Legolas and Alanna avoided each other with one accord. Legolas spent most of his time in the study and Alanna spent hers closeted in the library, both so determined not to run into each other that they almost ceased to walk around the palace for fear of bumping into each other. Aragorn and Arwen were both perplexed by their behavior, especially at the mealtimes that the four of them shared, which were characterized with awkward and embarrassed silences and Alanna or Legolas coloring every time their gazes met across the table. But by slow degrees they were able to swallow their embarrassment and interact with each other normally again, and life resumed its normal course. Or as normal as could be expected as the couple adjusted to the rigors of married life.

One evening, about three weeks after their wedding, at Arwen's suggestion the four royals set out for a walk around the palace gardens. Predictably, Alanna hung back so she could discuss the literary merits of epic poetry with Aragorn. Arwen, more for the sake of courtesy than because she herself did not share their literary enthusiasm, engaged Legolas in a polite conversation mostly consisting of social pleasantries which he found nearly as unappealing as the other discussion. Therefore he experienced no small relief when they at last turned back as dusk approached. As they came in sight of the main entrance he was only half-listening to what Arwen was telling him, when his sharp eyes trained on a silhouette fumbling with what looked like a set of keys at the front door. The large pack on the person's back made it clear that he had only just arrived. Puzzled, and a little wary, Legolas alerted the others to the man's presence and hurried forward.

He was not far from the palace before the person heard his approach and turned to greet them. Legolas stopped short as he saw who it was, and there was a sharp intake of breath from Aragorn behind them.

"Valar Elano, what in all of arda _happened_ to you?!" He said when he regained his speech, for it was not so much the person, as his appearance, which occasioned their horror.

In the same breath, Aragorn asked from behind him, "Have you been ill?"

In spite of the fact that everyone present knew that it was irrational to suppose that an Elf could have fallen ill, the question was received by all of them as more than justified. Elano's appearance had changed so much since Legolas had last seen him that Legolas felt as if he were looking upon a complete stranger. The Elf had become so painfully thin that neither Legolas nor Aragorn had been able to recognize his form from a distance, which was worrying in itself considering the amount they had interacted with him over the last year. Elano's face was pale and gaunt, and the warmth and natural glow in his eyes had dimmed to be replaced by a look which was distinctly haunted. Dark rings beneath his eyes spoke ominously of sleepless nights.

Legolas's concern for the younger Elf increased when he looked faintly surprised by the vehemence of both questions; for he was clearly unaware of any changes wrought in his appearance himself. "Sir, my Lord," He greeted them, and Legolas noted that even his voice seemed softer and more strained than he remembered, "I am quite well, thank you; merely a little tired from my journey. I assure you that nothing in the world has happened to me."

"But why are you here, not that I'm displeased to see you?" Legolas persisted, "Aren't you supposed to be spending the summer with your mother?"

Elano's face crumpled suddenly at the question and he drew a shuddering breath. His expression was a kaleidoscope of anguish, sorrow and such potent self-loathing that Legolas started in spite of himself. "Let's just say she got tired of my company, shall we?" He muttered in a voice that shook, and then turned abruptly back to the door. "I hope you'll forgive me for using the keys you gave me, sir," He told Legolas over his shoulder. "But I did not know that anyone would be here except for the servants, and I did not want to disturb anyone." He had managed to unlock the door during this speech, and, stepping inside, he held it open for the four people outside, correctly deducing that the two unknown women were also royals by their apparel and the circlets adorning their heads.

Legolas on the other hand, was eyeing him with some surprise, "Elano, what do you mean when you say you didn't know anyone would be here? Haven't you heard that this is our-" He gestured to Alanna to include her in this statement- "permanent home now?"

"Forgive me, sir," He replied, his eyes flicking towards Alanna with obvious confusion, "But I do not even know who this fair Lady _is._"

"Fair Lady!" Alanna exclaimed in amusement, ignoring or noticing Legolas's reproving look. "Either you are completely blind, or you know _exactly_ who I am and seek to flatter me!" She laughed to show that she was not seriously accusing him of such baseness, but he only seemed to become more confused still by this burst of levity.

"Elano, I have no idea how you cannot have heard of it because it has naturally been the talk of the entirety of Greenwood," Legolas replied, coming to his rescue in spite of his own perplexity. "But this is my wife, and your new Queen, Lady Alanna."

Elano's jaw dropped. "You're…married?!" He choked out, and then his eyes widened further as the implications sunk in, "Wait a minute, _Queen?_ You're…you're the King now! How…" He spluttered incoherently, "What of…your father?"

"My father sailed about three weeks ago," Legolas explained, "I was married and ascended the throne at the end of last month, just before he left." He frowned. "But how could you not know something of such importance?"

Elano blushed. "My home is on the edge of Greenwood , and very isolated, sir, I mean Sire," He said, flushing, "And-" Here his face was once again beclouded by sorrow- "I have been too greatly preoccupied with matters at home these past weeks to attend to anything else."

"Elano, please don't call me Sire," Legolas interjected, "I've been sir to you for all the time you've known me, and will continue to be that as well, to you and the rest of the school. I don't want my becoming King to change that."

"Yes, of course, sir." He turned to Alanna and bowed low, "I apologize for not greeting you with due respect, Your Highness, and hope you will forgive my ignorance. I am Elano Timani, at your service. I am a healer at this school."

"Elano, is it?" Alanna replied amicably, determinedly refusing to acknowledge all the undercurrents in the conversation, much to Legolas's relief. "If you call my husband 'sir', then you can call me 'ma'am," She continued, "Such lofty titles as you would give me do not suit me at all."

"Of course, ma'am," Elano bowed compliantly, and then turned to Legolas. "I hope you will excuse me, sir; I wish to put away my things and refresh myself. It has been a long journey."

"Join us for dinner, Elano; we eat about two hours from now in the room adjoining my chambers," Legolas interposed swiftly before the Elf left. He wanted to observe him more closely so he could determine exactly what was wrong with him.

"Of course, sir," Elano nodded, and continued down the hall.

Legolas waited only until he was out of earshot before turning to Aragorn, and asking, "What do you suppose is wrong this time?" The 'this time' he included in memory of all the times there had been some crises or other in Elano's life, which were surprisingly many. He had never known any other Elf so young who had been faced with so much tragedy and upheaval in his life.

But Aragorn looked after the Elf and shook his head, troubled, but unable to give a satisfactory answer. "I don't know."

…

Watching Elano at dinner only increased Legolas's anxiety, as the younger Elf only pecked at his meal and seemed to have little appetite in spite of the long journey he had just had. The meal was a rather unusual affair, where Alanna alone was bright and chirpy. She behaved completely oblivious to the fact that Elano was shockingly unhealthy and that this was causing quite a bit of grief to her husband. She engaged the Elf in a lively conversation about his role in the school, the children, and his passion for healing. Elano only answered in monosyllables for the most part, but Legolas could tell that he appreciated Alanna's warmth. He was surprised and pleased that she went completely out of her way to converse and familiarize herself with him; for she had quickly deduced that Elano meant a great deal to her husband and wanted to find out more about him. It must have been an extreme effort for someone who normally spent their meals in quiet contemplation to socialize to such a degree, Legolas reflected, and he felt no small admiration for her effort. Alanna had managed to save them all from endless awkward silences for which small mercy he was infinitely grateful.

After the meal, Legolas did not waste any time in confronting Elano about exactly what was wrong. He knew the Elf was tired from his journey, but also sensed that he would not get much sleep anyway with whatever was preying on his mind and health. Accordingly, he marched right up to Elano's quarters and knocked smartly on the door. As he had predicted, Elano had not even undressed and appeared to have been settling down at his desk with a book when Legolas arrived. He welcomed Legolas warmly, offered him a chair as well as tea and the two settled down by the fireplace for what promised to be a long (and revealing) conversation.

"How did all this come to be, sir, if you don't mind my asking?" Elano asked presently, in reference to Legolas's marriage and his ascending the throne.

The older Elf had anticipated the question, as he knew it must have been greatly puzzling Elano ever since it had been sprung on him that evening. He smiled in amusement as he remembered Elano's flabbergasted expression when he found out. He imagined that it might have even rivaled Aragorn's. "Do you remember that trip I took to see my father about a month before the graduation?" He asked, resolving to leave nothing out. The depth of Elano's friendship with Ivana gave him a right to information, he realized with some guilt, that even his wife was not privy to. At Elano's nod, he continued hurriedly before he could lose his nerve. "Well, my father had just returned from a visit to Ivana, and something about her behavior worried him greatly. She was apparently very melancholy and nostalgic about the past and the family that she had lost, and suffice it to say that _ada_ came away from the meeting very troubled. He came to the conclusion that Ivana needed to be restored to her family, and that she had already given too much to be forced to live in such loneliness as repayment."

"There was, of course, only one way to restore Ivana's family to her; and that was sailing away with her to Valinor. My father approached me about his anxieties for Ivana, and told me of his wishes. Naturally, if he sailed, I would be required to ascend the throne, but there was another law which required me to marry before I ascended the throne. I agreed to both conditions, and that is how you find me as I am, married as well as King, in such a short time."

Elano looked a little surprised that Legolas had completely eluded the subjects of his courtship with Alanna (if it could even be _called _that) and exactly _how_ his marriage had been arranged, but the older Elf did not think it was necessary for Elano to know _everything_ about his marriage, not because he did not trust him, but because he was still guilty that Elano knew more about his reasons for marrying than his own wife. "That is also why," he continued, steering the conversation towards Elano's summer now, "I told you to visit Ivana before you went to see your mother. I knew you may not get another chance to say goodbye, even though at that point, nothing had been decided yet and she herself did not know that she would be sailing soon." He paused to let Elano say something, and when he did not, he probed him, "Well, _did_ you go and visit her?"

"Yes," Elano answered tightly, "But I wasn't able to say goodbye, or even treat her out of the ordinary in any way, because, as you said, she didn't know she might be sailing soon." There was something odd in his expression; a look of mingled pain and resignation and _something else_ as well, which made Legolas stare intently at him for a long moment. Then, a flash of insight accompanied by shocked realization hit him and he gasped, winded. "Do you…Elano, do you love her?" When he looked back on the moment later, he could never understand exactly how he had come to this conclusion, and could only conclude that marriage and his relationship with Alanna, platonic as it was, had somehow made him more perceptive to these things.

Elano started at the unexpected question, looking at Legolas with a combination of shame, helplessness and sorrow which left no room for any doubt. Legolas let out an uneven breath. "How long?" He asked quietly.

"I don't know, sir," Elano said, not meeting the other's gaze. He hesitated. "I think it started even before I found out she was an adult, but I naturally discouraged myself then because I thought she was a child. And then when I found out who she was and what she had done, my feelings only increased in strength. I don't even know if it _is _love. Eru knows I'm far too young to be experiencing something like this; how am I to know that it isn't just a- a transient fancy? She is four or five millennia older than I am, and she is so unimpeachably noble, so _good_, and so _proud_ besides, that I cannot help but admire and…and _love_ her. But…" He stopped, drawing a shaky breath as he struggled to express himself. "But it is those very qualities which make her completely unreachable to me; she is so completely above and beyond me that I never once dreamt of confessing my feelings to her, or expected her to reciprocate them even before I found out she would be sailing. But I can't help missing her and wishing that she could have stayed."

This last was said hurriedly, almost defensively, as though Elano was trying to forestall an objection or remonstrance. Legolas realized that the younger Elf had yet to meet his gaze and that his entire demeanor was tense, as though he was awaiting some sort of judgment from his former teacher. "Elano, look at me," He said gently, his heart going out to the young Elf before him. Elano raised his eyes reluctantly to Legolas's and his face flooded with intense relief upon seeing the compassion in the eyes of one he had come to regard aa a mentor and a friend. "There is no shame in your feelings for Ivana, but you were right not to expect anything similar from her. I'm sorry if I'm being too brutally honest, but it needs to be said."

"I know," Elano sighed, "Ivana wouldn't be ready for that type of commitment even for someone more suited for her. She lived alone for millennia, and first has to learn how to deal with interacting with _people in general,_ never mind love." He shook his head, looking troubled. "Sometimes I wonder if she would have gotten on half as well with me if I hadn't been the only one willing to befriend her after so many years of such loneliness. It isn't exactly a comforting thought, or a flattering one, but the fact that I must entertain it tells me that I should not even hope for anything from her in the future, because _that_ will always hang before us even if we do. Even when I admitted my feelings to myself, I knew that there was never any hope. But even so, even though I know it is the best thing for her, I can't help but wish she hadn't sailed."

The catch in his voice and the slightly wistful look in his eyes touched Legolas to the quick. His heart ached for the young Elf, whose level of resignation indicated that Elano was certainly mature enough to make a relationship work at this age, if he had only chosen someone else for his affections. "Elano, I…I'm sorry. If things had been different, it would have been an honor to claim you as my kin," Legolas said. Not used to expressing such sentimentality, he struggled over the words, but his earnestness ensured that there was no doubting their sincerity.

Elano flushed, pleased and touched by the words. "Thank you, sir," He said quietly, "I need to be reminded that there are still people I care for, and that care for me in turn, who I am not in danger of losing." His voice had dropped so low over these last words that Legolas almost doubted that they had been said.

"What do you mean?" He asked, a deep sense of foreboding filling him. "Elano?" He asked more sharply when the Elf did not reply. "Who are you in danger of losing?"

"My mother...I fear…I fear she is fading," Elano choked out with difficulty, and Legolas sucked in a horrified breath at this pronouncement. _Oh no…_ "I can't…she won't eat, or sleep, she doesn't respond when I talk to her, she drinks herself into a stupor every night in front of _ada's_ portrait…" Elano's hands trembled as he raised them in a gesture of helplessness. "I can't _stand_ it; I can't _lose_ her…I _can't_…" His face twisted with agony, and then his head sank into his hands, and his form was wracked with silent, heaving sobs as he finally gave himself up to his grief and fears.

Legolas rose, and, without saying a word, perched himself on the arm of Elano's chair, gently placing an arm around the Elf's shaking shoulders. At the reassuring touch, Elano let out a strangled sound of misery and wrapped both his arms tightly around his former teacher, clinging to him as though his life depended on it. Legolas's heart clenched at the glimpse he got of his face before it was buried in his shoulder. He rubbed Elano's back gently, but did not bid him cease weeping, or tell him that everything would be alright, knowing such words would sound empty and hollow. Elano's body shuddered against his, and the sheer violence of his grief almost brought tears to Legolas's own eyes.

He wondered angrily what this Elf, who could not have been a day over fifty-five winters, had done to deserve _this._ Why did the fates have to be so cruel to someone who deserved _so much more?_ And how much more could Elano endure before he broke completely? And _that_ was a disturbing thought, because Elano's description of his mother's behavior; not eating, not sleeping, haunted by loss, fit Elano himself as perfectly as a glove. And the mere thought of Elano…_fading_…terrified him beyond imagination. His arms tightened unconsciously around the shaking Elf in his arms. He had known he cared about him, but only the realization that he could lose him, and the horror it excited in him, which was comparable to what he felt whenever he was reminded of Aragorn's mortality, revealed to him how much.

He waited patiently until Elano's tremors had lessened somewhat, and then, without pulling out of their embrace, asked him quietly, "How long, do you think…?"

"I don't know," Elano replied unsteadily, his words slightly muffled by the fabric of Legolas's tunic, "It is happening quite slowly. I don't think she even realizes yet what is happening to her- if she did, it would happen much faster. Even though she doesn't eat much, she drinks all through the day, and that provides some sustenance. And although she never sleeps willingly, she does get her rest when she drinks herself unconscious once every two or three days. I engaged a healer to stay at home and look after her; a nurse, if you will, but I couldn't stay there and watch her waste away," His breathing hitched and another sob escaped his throat. "Most of the time she barely seems to know that I'm there," He continued in a words so rent with anguish and guilt that they were almost indistinguishable, "The last six months have wrought a change in her which I can't even begin to describe. We both used to work as healers under Lord Culas; I think he is of your court, is he not?" Legolas confirmed the question with a nod, which Elano felt rather than saw.

"That was before I became healer here," he continued, pulling away from Legolas and regarding him with red-rimmed eyes. "The wage I get from you is extremely generous, sir, twice of what I earned under Lord Culas," he continued earnestly, "And I send most of what I earn to my mother every month. I found out when I returned that she has been spending much of that money on drink and that Lord Culas had dismissed her from his employment because her inebriation was proving dangerous for the injured she treated. If I had known, if I had gotten over my petty hesitation, and gone to see her…"

"Elano, that wasn't your fault," Legolas stopped this guilty outpour of self-recrimination with a mind to comfort the Elf at least on _this_ score. He did not need guilt to eat at him on top of everything else he was feeling. "You could not have known, and besides, you are only human yourself. I remember what you told me about why you didn't want to go. You said your mother loved living in he past, and that she reminded you too often of the deaths of your sister and father. You're not invincible; you were just as affected as your mother by their deaths, but you dealt with it in a different way. No one can fault you for protecting yourself."

"Be that as it may, it doesn't change the fact that if I had visited her earlier, I might have stopped her from going on this path of self-destruction before it was too late," Elano insisted, "And even when I finally did bring myself to visit, I lacked the courage to stay there for the full two months like I was supposed to," Here his voice turned bitter again, and his words were tinged with self-loathing. "I couldn't stand to see her waste away before me, so I took the _easy_ way out and engaged someone to look after her instead of doing it myself."

"Is it only because you couldn't stand to see her condition, or is there something else?" Legolas asked gently. Truth be told, he _was_ a little puzzled by his escapist behavior.

"No," Elano said, his voice choked as he fought the sobs threatening to rise in his throat, "I…my mother is the splitting image of my sister and I feel…I feel like I'm losing the last link I have to her. Miriel and I were exceptionally close, even for twins…we'd finish each other's sentences, even feel each other's distress," He shuddered visibly. "We may not have looked alike, but we were one in mind. I still remember the day she drowned…I was five, but I _felt_ her. She was so afraid…I _felt_ her death." Legolas felt sick with horror as he realized that Elano had lived with this almost all his life. To have known death so intimately when he was so young; no _wonder_ Elano's eyes always seemed so old and sad.

"I've never spoken of this to anyone before," Elano continued unsteadily. "I…my parents were devastated by her death, and I couldn't…I didn't want to make it worse for them. I don't know how I got over her passing. My mother told me that I almost faded…I can't remember it; the year following her death is like a half remembered nightmare to me. At first, I couldn't stand to be close to my mother because she was reminded me so much of Miriel, but in time I came to love her for that. The same was true for her. We provided each other a link to Miriel, and that is why we became so much to each other." He smiled sadly. "You must have wondered why I was trained in healing rather than warfare, when it was the latter that was my father's trade. It was because my mother and I were so close. I worshipped her. I wanted to do everything she did- and my father did not object because he thought healing to be a noble profession. The joy I used to find in following in her footsteps…"

"Used to?" Legolas asked.

Elano looked away. His voice, when he spoke, shook with emotion. The shame coloring his tone made it clear that he felt he was betraying something fundamental by admitting this. "My mother…I can't look up to her anymore. She has changed greatly…and while I still take joy in healing people, it's no longer because I worship _her._ I…" He swallowed hard and met Legolas's gaze with brimming eyes. He spoke quickly, his words a desperate attempt to justify the traitorous emotions he could not help feeling. "I feel like I've already lost her. She has changed so much…I can't…"

"Elano, there is no shame in feeling as you do," Legolas interrupted softly, squeezing the younger Elf's shoulder in gentle comfort. "Loss affects people in unfathomable ways. There's nothing you or I can do to stop it."

"But what am I going to do, if she dies?" Elano's voiced was tinged with desperation, "She's kept me afloat for most of my life…how am I supposed to live if my last family dies? I feel like I'm sinking already…"

The terror that the thought of losing Elano had ignited flared again at these words. Suddenly, with uncharacteristic impulsiveness, Legolas folded him tightly in his arms in a fierce embrace. "I won't let you sink," He said jerkily, his heart pounding in his chest as he envisioned what his life would be without the soft-spoken Elf in it. It would be the same as losing a blood relative, and the thought of it made him sick with fear and horror. "I _won't_ lose you. I _refuse_ to lose you"

Elano was frozen in arms, moved beyond words by such heartfelt, emotional words from someone who was usually reserved and undemonstrative. He pulled out of the embrace, his expression full of amazement and wonder. Legolas's face was flushed, partly from the strong emotions still coursing through him and partly from embarrassment at giving in to them in Elano's presence. "I'm sorry," He apologized, afraid that he had made the Elf uncomfortable, "That was…"

"Don't," Elano's voice was choked with gratitude. "Thank you." _For loving me, for reminding me that I'm not alone…_

The room was enveloped in quietude as the two sat together, leaning against each other in silence, each preoccupied with their own thoughts. Legolas gazed out of the window, staring into the inky black sky dotted with stars and a crescent moon, and sighed. When he had decided to confront Elano and marched up to his room that evening, he had never expected anything like this. He was still shaken by the evening's revelations, and suspected he would be for some time to come, and he could not yet gauge if he had managed to help Elano. In any event, he felt he could have done more for the Elf; under the circumstances, he felt quite helpless. Suddenly realizing how late it was, he shook himself out of his reverie.

"Elano, it must be past midnight. I must go to bed, and so must you." He scowled disapprovingly at the book which was still open on Elano's desk. "And if you stay up all night and read after your long journey, I will personally make sure you sorely regret it."

Elano fidgeted slightly and then nodded. Legolas smiled. "Goodnight, Elano."

He was opening the door to leave when Elano's voice stopped him. "Sir, wait," A flush painted his cheeks, and his next words bubbled forth, both pleading and embarrassed. "I don't want to be alone tonight. I have nightmares and I'm so afraid of waking up alone, I can't-" He cut himself off abruptly and averted his gaze from Legolas's, his cheeks aflame with shame and embarrassment.

Legolas's face softened; he crossed the room in two swift strides, and placed his hands gently on the Elf's shoulders. "Of course I will stay with you. You had only to ask." When the Elf still wouldn't look at him, he added, "There is no shame in asking for help Elano; you know that, don't you? We all have nightmares and fears we can't conquer. I don't think any less of you for asking."

The tension melted away from Elano's shoulders, and he looked up at Legolas and smiled tremulously. For the second time that evening, his voice was choked with gratitude. "Thank you."

…

TBC…

And I will not say another word, and let the chapter speak for itself. Please review!


	21. The First Step

Title: Until We Reach Valinor

Chapter 21: The First Step

NOTE: This story is sequel to "A Teacher's Duty" and you'll have to read that one first to understand this. Also, this story does _not_ contain slash, and it is _not_ a romance, despite what the first chapter might suggest.

SPECIAL THANKS to Cassie, for beta-reading my work in a days' time in spite of having a kidney stone problem. And to Kellen for helping me to name Alannna.

…

Legolas stayed with Elano all of that night, sitting beside his bed on a chair and holding his hand and singing him softly to sleep whenever he woke sobbing or screaming for his mother or sister. By morning, he was emotionally drained from witnessing Elano's mental condition (which was even worse than he'd thought) and stiff and sore from sitting in the hard, uncomfortable chair all night. He knew that, as much as he would like to, he couldn't very well stay with Elano every night (he had learnt his lesson about sleep deprivation on the disastrous hunting trip the previous year, when he had seriously jeopardized his health by refusing to sleep for an entire month). So he resolved to ask Aragorn to give Elano a mild, non-addictive sedative. He didn't know if there _were _any herbs that would fulfill these requirements, but he knew that Aragorn would be able to obtain them if there were. And Elano _needed_ to get his rest, or he was never going to recover his health.

When Elano woke sometime near dawn, Legolas took leave of him and walked slowly back to his own chambers, pondering what else he could do to help the Elf. Alanna sat up in bed the moment he entered the room, startling him. She was normally never awake at this hour. Her long hair fell over her face and she brushed it back impatiently. "Where have you been all night?" She asked.

He looked at her in surprise. "You didn't stay up for me, did you?"

"No, of course not," She replied, "Although I did wonder where you were. I'm awake because I'm feeling a bit nauseous and can't seem to sleep. Where were you?"

Legolas frowned, slightly concerned that she'd been unwell, but let it pass because she'd been so dismissive of it. It was probably nothing to worry about it. "I was with Elano," He answered, and was surprised and relieved when she didn't ask anything further and changed the subject. He hadn't expected so much tact from her.

Then again, when he came to think of it, she'd been extremely considerate ever since she had met Elano the previous night. In fact, she had completely ignored his sickly appearance and conversed with him the way she would have anyone else. And she had not once expressed curiosity over all the strange undercurrents at the table last night; an impressive feat for a woman, he thought to himself.

"Since we're both already up," Alanna said, "What do you thinking of going to watch the sunrise? It's been years since I saw one. I usually sleep too late and miss them, but when I do see them I feel like I can wax poetic about them for the next century."

Legolas considered. Being an early riser, he saw the sunrise quite often. But ever since they had consummated their marriage, all his interactions with Alanna had been slightly strained and awkward. They hadn't spent very much time with each other save in the company of Aragorn and Arwen, and Legolas had made it a point, of going to bed after she was asleep and rising before she was awake. He knew things could not be allowed to go on in the same vein if they were going to be married to each other, for the Valar knew how long, so he answered her with as little reluctance as he could, "Alright. I love watching the sunrise, myself."

He waited as she pulled a dressing gown over her nightclothes and went to wash her face, and then led her to what had recently been designated by their majordomo as their private garden. It was a beautiful morning, and neither of them spoke much as they enjoyed it. Legolas's thoughts turned to Elano as he walked. The Elf's state the previous night had shaken him to the core. His nightmares had been heartbreaking to witness, and had displayed with all clarity the depth of attachment Elano had with his mother. Legolas feared that if he lost her, there would be too little keeping him tied to Middle-Earth to prevent him from following. And that thought _still_ continued to terrify him.

"Legolas?"

He started at Alanna's voice, and looked up to discover that the sun had already risen without his noticing. He winced at his lack of attention. "Yes?"

"You've appeared troubled by something since yesterday," She said, "Is everything alright?"

Legolas opened his mouth but the easy excuse that was forming on his lips died as his gaze caught hers. She _knew_ that everything was not alright, and she also knew that it had to do with Elano. The only reason she had asked was to give him a chance to unburden himself, if he wanted to. That spoke of a great deal of consideration which he could not in good conscience ignore. And, he realized with a pang, he _wanted_ to unburden himself, but Elano had specifically requested him not to tell Aragorn because he didn't want the Man's pity for him to interfere with his teaching him healing. As a consequence, Legolas had been bearing all his anxiety and his grief by himself, and though he was not accustomed to sharing his troubles with others, the situation had shaken him badly enough that he was struggling with his emotions. He desperately wanted advice or even reassurance.

"Legolas?" Alanna's voice made him aware of how long had passed since her question.

"I'm sorry," He said, "I've been preoccupied…I'm very worried about Elano."

"He seems to mean a great deal to you," Alanna observed, and then hesitated for a long moment. "Did something happen to him over the summer?"

"Yes," Legolas replied, noting how careful Alanna was being with her words. He realized with a surge of guilt that this was the first time in his nearly two months of knowing her that he was being this open with her. And that was a fine way to behave with someone who wore their heart on their sleeve _all the time._ He felt even more convinced that he had been right to confide in her. Before he knew it, he was telling her everything; far more than he had originally intended.

He talked about how he had first met Elano as a part of his first batch, how he had been the quietest and most solitary teenager of the lot, how he had been abysmal at both archery and swordsmanship and the butt of all jokes in the class. He spoke of the death of Elano's father, and of how the Elf had been torn between his abhorrence for bloodshed and love for healing and his duty towards his dead father. How, during a hunting trip, Elano had saved his life during an orc skirmish, so that when his true age had been discovered, he had been given a royal pardon by Thranduil. Legolas told her about Elano's twin sister, and how her death had affected him beyond all others and had stolen a part of him irrevocably. Finally, he told her of Elano's mother, and of how he feared that Elano himself was in danger of fading if he lost her.

"You fear to lose him?" Alanna asked after a long moment.

"Yes. And I feel…so _helpless._ There is so little I can actually _do_ for him," Legolas said, his words leaving him in a rush. "What if, in spite of everything I do to prevent it, I'm not able to stop him from fading?"

Alanna contemplated him thoughtfully. "If Elano's mother should die, then I know you will do your very best to support him," She said, "You'll give him a shoulder to cry on, stay with him at night to soothe away his nightmares, try to ensure that he takes care of his health. But there is a large possibility that in spite of everything you do, you _won't _be able to stop him from fading. And maybe that would be for best, after all."

Legolas stared at her, stung. He had not been expecting this. He had wanted her to tell him that of _course_ he would be able to keep Elano fading, that he was too good a friend for Elano to leave behind. He had wanted her to reassure him, not to brutally make him confront the fact that everything would _not_, in fact, be alright.

"Because let's face it, Legolas," Alanna continued, "His sister, and his father and his mother would all be in Valinor. You would be hard pressed to find a tie on Middle-Earth that would hold him here with his entire family gone."

"So you're saying it's inevitable that I lose him," Legolas said, unable to keep a slight tremor out of his voice, "That no matter what I do or don't do, I'll lose him anyway."

She turned her serious, compassionate brown eyes on him. "I don't pretend to understand the relationship you both have, or how much regard he holds you in. If his mother dies, maybe he will love you enough to stay here for your sake. But he's only known you for six months, Legolas. There is every chance that it won't be enough."

"I told him yesterday that I wouldn't let him sink," Legolas stated quietly, "That I refused to lose him. That I would never let him go."

"He would be happier in Valinor than here," Alanna said softly, shaking her head, "Reunited with his sister, with his family. It would be an easier fate than living on after someone he loved so much passed." Her voice and hands trembled slightly with emotion, and Legolas saw tears sparkle in her eyes.

Realization hit with the force of a hailstorm. "Alanna," He breathed, his heart picking up speed for a reason he couldn't fathom, "When Rilian… did you…?"

"No," She replied, understanding what he was trying to ask. "When Rilian died, I did not come in danger of fading." Legolas felt an unexpected surge of relief at these words. "I was devastated, of course," Alanna continued, speaking more to herself than to him, "But it never came to that. I mourned through my writing. Many of my best works were written after Rilian died. But I often felt- I often _feel-_ unspeakably guilty that I was and am still able to eat and drink and sleep and _live_ when the person who was my entire world for the better part of ten centuries breathed his last in my arms."

Legolas looked away from her, at a loss for words. When he had first confided in her, he had never considered the similarities between Elano losing his mother and Alanna losing Rilian. He felt guilty for not having thought of it; he hadn't wanted to cause her pain. But she had driven home to him what he had refused to consider- that Elano would be far happier in Valinor than here, and that brought some measure of comfort. He felt a small load fall away from his heart.

"Thank you Alanna," He said quietly, "You've been a great help. And…" He added after a moment's thought, "I'm sorry for forcing you to relive all those memories."

Alanna shook her head dismissively and presented him with a genuine, if watery smile. "As long as I was able," She said. "Thank _you_ for confiding your troubles in me. I know it must have been difficult for you."

"Yes, well, you _are_ going to have a large part to play in this school," He told her, "Simply by virtue of being married to me, and living in the same place. I could hardly keep you in the dark about such things. And besides," He added quickly, not wanting her to think that was the only reason he'd confided in her, "I needed to unburden myself, and Elano made me promise not to tell Aragorn, so…"

Alanna looked at him, stunned. "You told me…you told me of something you have not even told Aragorn?" She asked, looking torn between wonder and incomprehension.

"Alanna," He replied gently, "You're my wife." It was the first time he'd ever said it aloud. "We _should_ be able to confide in each other, and we shouldn't have secrets from each other as far as we can help it."

A moment later, he flushed, realizing his own hypocrisy. He still hadn't told Alanna about Ivana. And it wasn't even that he didn't trust her, or that an unwitting slip of the tongue would cost Ivana her life, as it once would have, because she was in Valinor. It wouldn't matter now if people found out the truth about her (although he fervently hoped that they never did, for his own peace of mind). He also knew that Alanna had been sympathetic to Ivana and had approved of her being Thranduil's heir. He had had that conversation with her weeks ago. He should have told her then, but he had been held back by pride, or paranoia, or something even more ridiculous. He nodded to himself decisively. He would tell her soon.

…

That morning, while they were eating breakfast, Aragorn suddenly stopped chewing mid-mouthful, his eyes widening dramatically. Legolas frowned, concerned for a moment that he had choked on his food.

"Valar! I just remembered!" Aragorn exclaimed. His voice was so loud that even Alanna blinked, was roused from her usual meal-time stupor.

"What is it?"

"The children will be arriving from Gondor in two days' time!" Aragorn replied, "I completely forgot, what with all the excitement of your wedding, and preparing for the other classes, it completely slipped my mind!"

"How many children?" Legolas asked, kicking himself for the oversight. He too had completely forgotten that this year the school would be including humans. A fine welcome they would have received if no one had remembered in time that they were coming! As it was he was going to have to spend the better part of tomorrow revising his teaching plans for the year to take into account the limited abilities of his new, human students.

"Twelve lads and three young maidens who wish to learn self-defense," Aragorn answered, "They'll be coming by horse, along with three escorts. They are the same age as the Elflings- sixteen or seventeen years old at most."

"Only fifteen?" Legolas asked, dismayed. He could already envision the power blocs that would quickly form, with the group of fifteen humans sticking together to defend themselves from seventy-odd Elflings who would jeer at them for their awkward physiques and inferior skills. He groaned inwardly. There went the notion that this year would be less of a challenge than the previous one.

"Yes," Aragorn replied, grimacing. He knew as well as Legolas how petty and cruel children could be. "And even worse, none of the humans know Sindarin, and none of the Elflings know either Numenorean, or the Common Tongue."

"The only way we can bridge the language difference is if we add a new class which will be compulsory for everyone," Legolas replied after a long moment, his tone thoughtful. "Two separate classes- The Common Tongue and Numenorean for the Elves, and Sindarin for the humans. Someone familiar with all three languages will have to take that class."

The two friends eyed each other. They were both perfectly at ease with all three languages, but neither of them would had the time to take such classes. Now that they were going to be teaching students who were at two different levels in different batches of varying sizes, their days were going to be busier than they had been the previous year. Legolas's gaze fell by chance upon Alanna, who was engaged in toying moodily with her food, and he sat up in sudden realization. Here was a person who was not just at ease, but _proficient_ in Numenorean, Sindarin and the Common Tongue. Aragorn had said she had written poems and stories in all three languages, and even successfully translated a few Numenorean pomes to Sindarin without disturbing the rhyming or the meter, something which was supposedly very difficult.

"I think Alanna would be perfect for the task," He said.

"What?" Alanna asked absently, jolted out of her dream-state upon hearing her name.

Aragorn, in the meantime, was looking delighted with the solution, and Arwen was nodding her approval. "That's an excellent idea!" exclaimed the former enthusiastically, "Alanna _would_ be perfectly suited for teaching them languages. Words are, after all, her forte."

"You want _me_ to teach them?!" Alanna asked, her voice ringing with amazement, "But I can't! I'd be hopeless with children! I've never even _met _a single teenager in my life!"

Legolas shook his head. He had already considered that, and had thought of something which he was fairly certain would make up for it. "You have no idea how you sound when you speak about Elven and Numenorean poetry," He said, "You may not have ever interacted with teenagers, but the passion with which you speak about poetry and prose speaks for itself. Everything else will take care of itself. Trust me. You will be an instant favorite."

"But…I…" Alanna spluttered, clearly unable to believe that he had such faith in her abilities when she herself lacked it.

"And also," Legolas continued, going a bit farther than he had intended, "You can, aside from just teaching the basics of language, teach the Elflings some of their heritage by telling them of our lore and the songs of our minstrels, and you can teach Numenorean literature and lore to the humans. You can never tell when such legends will give them the strength to defy all the odds against them in a difficult situation, and snatch victory from the jaws of defeat." He thought of Sam, and how the hobbit had often, in his finer moments during the War of the Ring, spoken of legends and stories to inspire himself and the others. He felt convinced that if Alanna did this, the army he was trying to build would be that much stronger.

In spite of her misgivings, Alanna's eyes had begun to sparkle with interest at the thought of doing more than merely teaching the basics of language. She knew that she would greatly enjoy this if she worked up the nerve to do it.

"You really think me capable of doing this?" She asked, feeling slightly panicky. She realized that this was far more communication between the humans and the Elflings, or even about feeding them tales of bravery and valor. He was entrusting her with their character, with their mental development. And that was a hundred times more terrifying, especially for someone who had never been responsible for anyone but herself. She could tell by Aragorn's ill-concealed expression of surprise followed by wariness that he had his own misgivings, too, but the look on Legolas's face prevented her from giving an outright refusal. No one in her life had ever before looked at her like that, with such faith. She did not want to disappoint him.

"I do," Legolas answered; his intense blue eyes boring into hers. "I trust you."

"And what if I fail?" She threw out at him, "What if they become worse people for having known me?"

Legolas's expression didn't change in the slightest. "Alanna," He said in the same, intense tone, "I trust you."

Alanna was silent for a long moment, torn. She couldn't disappoint him after he'd made a declaration like that, but every instinct in her was screaming that this would go wrong if she agreed. "Alright," She said abruptly, "I'll do it- to the best of my ability. But I hope you know that I'm only agreeing to this because of you. _I_ don't believe I can do this. I think you're setting yourself up for a fall by just- blindly believing in me." She blinked a bit as she realized, too late, how stand-offish she had sounded. She wondered why she had been feeling so moody lately.

Legolas's face, which had lit up in a bright, rare smile the moment she'd given her consent, fell slightly at her words and tone. Alanna winced inwardly and cursed herself for not being more enthusiastic. "I know you're only doing this for me now," He told her with a serious expression, "But I hope someday, you'll start to enjoy it and begin doing it for yourself. You should also know that I take my duties as a teacher very seriously. If I find that you are bad for my students, I will not allow you to continue to teach them. You don't need to worry about failing, because I would never let you get that far without stopping you."

Alanna let out a relieved breath, feeling more reassured. "Alright then," She said, in a happier tone, "I'll look forward to teaching them." Her eyes widened suddenly. "Oh! I'm going to have to plan their lessons! I have barely any time, too!" Her mind working a league a minute, she leapt to her feet, abandoning her little-touched breakfast with such alacrity that Legolas was amused.

"What about your breakfast?" He called out after her as she hurried towards the door, "You barely ate a morsel!"

"I'm not hungry," She shouted over her shoulder, "For some reason, I could barely stand the smell of the sausages this morning. Perhaps I'll ask Calianna to give me some broth later." She disappeared around the corner.

"I'm willing to wager my entire kingdom that she'll do nothing of the kind," Legolas remarked, shaking his head after her, "She's completely lost to the world when she's in that library. She won't realize that she's hungry. I'll have to tell Calianna to take her some broth myself."

"Legolas, are you sure this is a good idea?" Aragorn asked, referring to the arrangement that had just taken place. "You know what an impact every small thing has on them when they're this young. The stories she tells them now will stick in their heads for the rest of their lives. You're entrusting her to shape the people they become."

"I'm entrusting her with a lot more than that," Legolas replied evenly, "You know, Aragorn, that many things are going change this year, now that I am the King of Greenwood. I've been through a great deal with my current students over the last year, so I can trust that _their_ view of me will remain unaltered. But the new students? They'll think all their problems, big or small, are too petty to bother me with. I don't want to allow some severe case of bullying or an argument blown out of proportion because it festered for too long without intervention. As King, I'm not very approachable, but Alanna is. She's friendly, warm, and she wasn't brought up as a royal so she won't act like one." He knew he could sometimes unwittingly intimidate his students when he chastised them over some minor transgression by unconsciously adopting a regal air. Alanna, with all her little airs and eccentricities, would never be in danger of doing that.

"And you think her capable of this," Aragorn said, still doubtful. "Giving advice, soothing homesickness, curbing bullies- we both know it isn't as easy as it sounds. Children can be dreadfully obtuse at times, and stubborn. Nothing anyone says to them will have much effect on them unless that person earns their respect."

Legolas thought back to his conversation with Alanna. She had displayed a streak of realism in her which he would never have dreamed she possessed until that morning; he was fairly convinced that she would give advice not based on what people wanted to hear, but on what they _needed _to hear. She would not say that everything was going to be alright when it wasn't, and would not disillusion the children by giving them false hope. That, if nothing else, would earn their respect. Every parental instinct Legolas possessed was screaming that this woman would do wonders for his children. So he answered without hesitation: "I think she is capable of this. We just have to give her a chance to prove herself."

Aragorn studied him for a long moment, wondering what had filled him with such conviction, but when Legolas didn't volunteer any information, he nodded, deciding to follow his friends' instincts. As for Legolas, he was quite amazed at how exhilarated and _overjoyed_ he felt that Alanna had agreed to take on such a significant role in the children's lives. He knew it would take centuries to alter Alanna's idea of her low self-wroth, but he had promised himself that if he could give her nothing else from their marriage, he would give her this, no matter how many years it took. And today he had taken the first step down that path. If Alanna gained the respect of the children, as he felt sure she would, perhaps she could start to respect herself as well. He smiled a bright, fierce smile as he drained the last of his apple juice, reveling in the hard rock of satisfaction which had lodged itself in his heart.

TBC…

Terribly sorry for the long wait. I was attacked by writer's block, so it took weeks to write this one chapter. I'm back now, however. I What did you guys think of this chapter? How does the idea of Alanna teaching sound to you? Please review!


	22. This Miracle of Life

Title: Until We Reach Valinor

Chapter 22: This Miracle of Life

NOTE: This story is sequel to "A Teacher's Duty" and you'll have to read that one first to understand this. Also, this story does _not_ contain slash, and it is _not_ a romance, despite what the first chapter might suggest.

SPECIAL THANKS to Cassie, for beta-reading previous chapters, even though she seems to have disappeared on me again this time. She's probably fallen sick again, and I hope she gets well. And thanks to Kellen, too, for helping me to name Alannna.

…

Legolas woke to the sound of someone retching. Immediately alert, he threw the bedcovers of himself and padded over to the bathroom, which was ajar. He found Alanna leaning over the chamber pot, retching helplessly. He crossed the room in three quick strides and hesitated only a moment before taking her long hair in one of his hands and holding it away from her face so that it wouldn't be soiled. He realized with a start that it was the first time he was actually touching it after admiring it nearly every night when she bent to blow out the candles, but pushed the inappropriate and rather untimely thought away immediately. To his relief, Alanna was still retching and didn't notice his embarrassment.

Finally, after a few minutes, she straightened, still looking a bit green. Legolas sat her down on a stool and went into the room to fetch a glass of water, which she accepted gratefully.

"Are you alright?" He asked, when he saw that she was looking less sick.

"Yes, I think it's passed now," She replied hoarsely. When she saw him frown in concern, she added, "It must have been something I ate for dinner."

Legolas continued to frown. "I ate everything you did, and _I'm_ not sick," He pointed out.

"Well, it's probably just one of those odd occurrences," She said dismissively, and then yawned. "I'm going to bed now. Are you coming?"

Still frowning, but deciding to let the matter go for the moment, he nodded and followed her back into their bedchamber. Alanna, exhausted from feeling nauseous for two nights in a row, quickly fell asleep in the glow of relief that always follows after a spell of sickness. Legolas was still too puzzled and concerned about what had happened to fall asleep immediately. He remembered Alanna's lack of appetite the previous morning and her newfound dislike for sausages, and his frowned deepened. What could possibly be the matter? As he drifted asleep, he couldn't get rid of the nagging feeling that both he and Alanna were _missing_ something.

…

Legolas kept a close watch on Alanna the next morning at breakfast. She ate heartily enough until the sausages were brought in. But one whiff of them sent her bolting out of the room, her hand clasped around her mouth. Ignoring the startled looks on his friends' faces, Legolas rose and hurried after her. He found her (again) in the nearest bathroom. She was standing near the chamber pot; thankfully not retching, but breathing deeply to ease the nausea.

"Was it the sausages again?"

She nodded, looking bewildered. "It's strange. I usually love sausages. I don't know what's happened to me."

Legolas was equally perplexed. He was again feeling like something very important and was escaping his notice, and he couldn't for the life of him figure out what. "Has it passed completely now?" He asked.

"I think so," She nodded.

"Then let's go back and have breakfast."

"I'm not going anywhere _near_ those sausages!" Alanna protested.

"Then we'll have them removed from the table. No," He added when she began to protest, "You lost half your dinner last night. You need to eat. My friends can survive one day without sausages, as can I. Now, come."

Seeing from his face that it would be useless to argue with him, she sighed loudly and threw up her hands in exaggerated resignation. Legolas gave her a Look, and then took her arm and- to her mild irritation (he didn't need to treat her like a complete invalid just because she'd been a bit nauseous!)- led her back to the dining room.

"I'm sorry; I was just feeling a bit nauseous," Alanna said in response to the others' questions. "I'm alright now."

Predictably, Aragorn was unsatisfied with this evasive answer. "Nauseous?" He asked, exchanging a look with Elano, who was also leaning forward in sudden interest. "Is this the first time it's happened?"

_Healers, _Legolas thought, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes.

"No. It's been plaguing me on and off for four days now."

"Four days?!" Aragorn exclaimed.

Legolas also sat up in concern and alarm, no loner able to dismiss her sickness as an 'odd occurrence.' "Why didn't you say anything? It could be serious!" Even as he said it, he realized how unlikely it was. Elves just didn't _get_ sick, so he knew now that he and Alanna just _had_ to be missing something. But _what?_ And _why_ was Alanna insisting on being so dismissive of her symptoms?

"You might have made it worse by ignoring it!" Aragorn agreed.

Alanna set her fork down and glared at him. "Will you all stop- breathing down my neck!"

"We're _not_ breathing down your neck!" Legolas protested, "We're simply concerned!"

To Legolas's amazement, Alanna's brown eyes suddenly filled with tears. "I-I know. I'm sorry. I don't know what's gotten into me. I've just been so- moody and emotional lately. I'm sorry," She said again, dashing away her tears and looking simultaneously bewildered at their presence.

"You _have_ been moody," Legolas said thoughtfully, remembering how she had snapped at him the previous night when he had tried to tell her about Ivana. She had apologized, of course, and listened to what he had said with as much understanding as he had expected of her. But the fact remained that she had been having out-of-character moments of anger and irritation all week. He wondered if it had been because she hadn't been keeping well, or if it was something else…

"Oh, Valar." Suddenly, the goblet in Alanna's hand fell from her grasp and onto the table with a loud clang. She barely noticed. The expression on her face was reminiscent of someone who had been hit squarely on the head by a very large and heavy weight and hadn't yet had the chance to recover. "Eru. I can't believe it!"

"Er…Alanna?"

"Legolas don't you understand?!" Her hands flew to her belly, and Legolas's eyes widened as he suddenly understood what she meant.

"It can't be…"

"I've been sick," She said, listing her symptoms to convince herself that she wasn't mistaken. "I've been moody. And I'm _late._" In other circumstances, she would have died at the thought of relaying something so personal and private before three _men_, but at the moment, she was too preoccupied to be embarrassed. "I'm pregnant," She said.

A thousand emotions overwhelmed her at once, but the one that emerged the strongest was joy. She was going to be a mother. A bright, happy smile lit up her face. Her powerful maternal instinct was enough to over-ride any of her usual doubts and insecurities. She was going to be the best mother she could be, and for once, she was confident that it would be enough. She had always wanted children of her own. She had thought that it would matter that Rilian wasn't the father, but it didn't. All that mattered was the miracle taking place inside of her. It was a _part _of her. She rubbed her stomach gently, almost reverently, lost in a haze of joyful anticipation as she pictured the next nine months and the years that would follow after them.

Legolas, for his part, was speechless, or very nearly so. "What...I'm not-I-"

"Breathe, mellonamin," Aragorn drawled, amused. "It's not yet the end of the world." In truth, though, he was quite surprised by the news; and he could tell from Arwen's and Elano's faces that he wasn't the only one. Legolas and Alanna had been married for less than a month, and for them to have already…Suddenly that week in which neither of them had been able to look at each other without blushing crimson started to make more sense. He grimaced, not particularly happy about the fact that he now knew the exact date when his friend had…He swiftly cut that thought off before he could complete it.

"Congratulations, Legolas," He said, rising and embracing his shell-shocked friend. "You're going to be a father. I can hardly believe it. I'm so glad for you."

At the word 'father', Legolas's profound disbelief was joined swiftly by panic. He stared at Alanna's midriff, which was only half visible over the tabletop, and still couldn't quite believe that a life, which he had helped create, was being nurtured inside even as they were speaking. Her stomach didn't look in the least different. The idea of being a father was more a source of apprehension than of joy to him. He barely heard Elano and Arwen congratulating them, and Alanna was simply too overjoyed to respond to anyone coherently. Aragorn, quickly seeing that the couple needed time alone to digest the momentous news, signaled silently to the others. The three filed out, and Legolas and Alanna were both grateful for their tact. For a long time, they could not find any words, each too preoccupied with their own thoughts.

Legolas was the first to break the silence. "I never thought it would happen so soon," He said softly. "I thought we would have to try more." (Though he was extremely thankful that was not the case. Once had been bad enough.) "Aragorn must be so shocked; we've been married for less than a month," He continued, "He's too much of a romantic to understand how two people who don't love each other can be-" He blushed crimson as he said it- "intimate, especially when one of them is already-"

"You told him about Rilian?" Alanna interrupted him.

"No, of course not. I would never betray what you told me in confidence. He inferred it himself from your poetry. He said they were a key to your character or some such thing, so it's probably unwise to be so indiscriminate about whom you show them to in the future, if you don't mind my presuming to say so. He demanded to know why I had agreed to marry someone who was clearly in love with someone else, and then I _had_ to tell him the truth. I hope you're not offended?"

"Not at all. I didn't expect it to happen this soon either. It's quite terrifying, but so… _wonderful_ at the same time." She smiled and absently stroked her belly in it.

"You seem quite happy about this," Legolas said, hesitantly. He wasn't even sure if he should be asking this next question; if their relationship was familiar enough to permit it. "Doesn't it…I mean…"

"Doesn't it bother me that it's not Rilian's child I'm carrying, but yours?" Alanna finished the question for him. At his nod, she continued "No. I thought I'd be wracked by guilt, but …all I can feel is happiness," She paused, struggling to find the right words to explain. It was surprisingly difficult. "It doesn't matter to me who fathered this child," She said at last, "It's _my _child It makes me so happy to have someone who _belongs_ to me. To…to finally have family, bound to me not by love, or…marriage, but by _blood._"

Legolas looked at her, not quite knowing how to respond to this. He appreciated her honesty, but a thousand thoughts were clamoring in his head, demanding to be heard, as a result of it. The concept of family was nearly as alien to Legolas as it was to Alanna. All his life, his only blood kin had been his father. They had been father and son, but never a family, because two people just _did not_ make a family. But now, he was going to be part of one. With the arrival of this baby, there would be three of them. And perhaps, if it was a girl, they would have to try again, so they might even be _four_ in the future. Two months ago, his biggest concerns had been the graduation and Celin's little fit of petulance. If anyone had mentioned his name and marriage in the same sentence, he would have laughed in their faces. And now he not only had a _wife_, as if that wasn't enough to adjust to; but a _child_ on the way as well. The speed at which everything was happening was too much for him.

"The truth is," Alanna continued, speaking more to herself than him; "Even after I was engaged to Rilian, I never thought of being the mother of _his_ children specifically, I just thought of being a mother. I refuse to feel guilty for taking joy in this...blessing. This gift."

"May I ask you something?" Legolas asked, abruptly changing the subject. Alanna's obvious joy over her pregnancy was making him feel guilty about the lack of the same emotion in him, and he didn't want to hear any more talk about the child as a blessing and a gift. "Why did you keep dismissing the fact that you were feeling sick? Most Elves don't even know the meaning of discomfort and illness. Even something as small a rash induced by a spider's bite is fussed over and complained about. And you just dismissed four days of sickness as though they never even happened."

"You said that most Elves don't know the meaning of discomfort or pain," Alanna answered after a short pause, "But I am not most Elves. Have you forgotten how clumsy I am?" She smiled at him. "I've gotten into all sorts of scrapes in my lifetime; tripping over things, slipping on polished floors. I'm used to bumps and bruises and even the occasional sprain."

"But you would have healed easily from bumps and bruises," Legolas pointed out. He was quite concerned about the matter and resolved not let it go until he received a satisfactory answer, "And sprains don't take more than two days to heal. I don't like to push you, Alanna; but I am concerned that if something _really_ life-threatening or dangerous were to happen to you- if, for instance, you were bitten by an exceptionally venomous spider, or perhaps a snake- without realizing what exactly had bitten you- you would try to dismiss your discomfort. The consequences of neglecting something like that could be devastating. "

Alanna was silent for a long moment. Finally, she said, "About three centuries after I'd met Rilian, I fell down the stairs and broke my leg." She grimaced. "It was a bad break. The healers said the bone was cracked in two places and it would take a month before it would fully heal; the fact that I'm an Elf not withstanding. Just as you said, I was unused to that kind of prolonged discomfort, and I fussed and fretted and wept and complained myself hoarse. I didn't have much to distract me from the pain; just Rilian's company."

Her voice took on the self-depreciating that Legolas loathed. "But instead of using it as a distraction I would keep complaining about my misfortunes to him. He bore with me for two weeks and then stopped visiting me until my leg was almost completely healed. I had grown used to him visiting me and the thought losing his company was more than I could bear. Those ten days were the longest of my life. I _really_ thought I had lost him. But he did return, and I was delighted to see him when he did. I asked him why he'd neglected me for so long. He just looked at me and said that no one likes a complainer, and left it at that. From then on, I wowed never to complain when I felt pain or discomfort. I would endure anything in silence if it meant keeping him by my side. And I've never complained since." She gave him a slightly pained smile and looked at him expectantly.

Legolas realized with a start that she was waiting for him to condemn her behavior, and perhaps to praise Rilian. The thought made him even more furious with her late lover. Rilian's behavior, in Legolas's eyes, had been intolerably cruel and in no way justifiable. Soldiers admittedly experienced more pain than Elves of other professions, so it was understandable that they sometimes got irritated when other Elves made a fuss about little things. But a broken leg was not a trivial injury, an even if it had been, to display, let alone to act upon such irritation, was insensitive, and, for Legolas, at least, inconceivable. He was beginning to see that much of Alanna's character had its roots in the way Rilian had treated her. Perhaps even her lack of self-esteem had come from that source, he mused. With a start, he realized that he was presuming too much. He had no right to pass judgment on a man he knew so little about.

"There's a difference between 'not complaining' and 'completely dismissing.'" He told Alanna, "You need to learn how to see that." His voice took on a sudden tone of intensity. "I want you to promise me that any discomfort, any pain you might experience in the future; you will inform me or Aragorn of it. And I don't just mean these nine months, though you _should_ be especially careful until the baby is born. Even afterwards, if you ever feel ill, please don't neglect it. I would not have you lost to our child by an easily preventable death. Or to me," he added before he could stop himself. He blushed in mortification, but the words had been said. And they were true, he realized with a sudden shock. Two months may not have been a long time, but it had been enough for him to become used to her presence in his life. If Alanna died that very day, he would not mourn her, but he would certainly miss her. And even if he wasn't feeling the joy he was supposed to be feeling over her pregnancy, he knew that he didn't want his child to be robbed of its mother. He had lived that, and he wouldn't wish it upon anyone.

Alanna, for her part, was looking at him in pure wonderment. She hadn't known that he cared about her, even that much. _Well, how could I?_ She thought, wryly, _Given how closed he is with his emotions?_ He would be blank and emotionless for days on end and then suddenly do or say things which would shock her half to death. Like the way he had confided in her about Elano yesterday. She'd never heard him talk so much in all the time she had known him. And then again, that same night, he had suddenly revealed a secret that could destroy both him and the memory of his father if it became public knowledge. Yes, he had told her it was high time he was honest with her on the subject of their marriage, especially since she had been frank with him since the day they'd met; but she hadn't exactly been divulging a political bombshell like his!

And now this. She didn't even know how to respond to him. She didn't need to ask herself if she cared about him. Of course she did. He was the one of the most honorable people she had ever met. She wasn't disappointed by his lack of response to her pregnancy. She knew even though he himself had yet to realize it, but he would make a wonderful father when the time came. How could she not care about him? And what he had said made sense. She didn't want to rob her children of her presence anymore than he did. She had grown up without a mother as well. So that would be her response, she decided. She wouldn't embarrass him further by acknowledging what he clearly hadn't meant to let slip.

"You're right," she said, "I'll try not to be dismissive of any discomfort I experience in the future. But you should know that a pregnancy is _characterized_ of discomfort. If I make an issue of it every time I get morning sickness or a backache or swollen ankles, you'll never hear the end of it. So I'll only report it if I feel anything out of the ordinary or something more extreme than usual."

"Backaches? Swollen ankles?" Legolas was looking at her in disbelief. "Are you joking?"

"Are _you?_" She retorted, "That is only the tip of the iceberg where childbearing is concerned. All the moodiness and discomfort of these next nine months _combined_ is nothing compared to giving birth." She shuddered, and then laughed at his expression. "What? Don't tell me you didn't know that giving birth is painful?"

Legolas flushed. "Of course I knew that! I just didn't realize…"

"No, of course you wouldn't. Men are always unbelievably ignorant about these things. It would appear these next nine months are going to be quite a revelation for you."

Legolas raised an eyebrow at her. "Indeed," He said with mock sarcasm. "I cannot wait."

She grinned at him, and he smiled back, realizing that he was no longer feeling as out of his depth. Some of the fear had already diminished, and he could feel the beginnings of anticipation stirring within him. He remembered what Alanna had said about the child belonging to her in a way it would to know one else, and realized the same would be true for him. There were not very many people in his life with whom he was on close terms. Besides his father, there had been Haldir, who had sailed a few years ago, and Aragorn, who was a mortal, and wouldn't outlast the century. There was Elano too, but with everything that had happened to him, Legolas couldn't see him staying on Middle-Earth very long even if his mother made a miraculous recovery, which he doubted would happen. And Alanna, even if he _wanted_ to look for a lasting relationship with her (which he didn't), could never be anybody's but Rilian's. His child would be the only person in his life who he would be bound to irrevocably. The only tie he would have on Middle-Earth once Aragorn passed away. Why should he fight against that?

He felt the beginnings of anticipation when he started to consider what a blessing this could prove to be. And even though he wasn't sure what kind of father he would make, or whether he would _ever_ feel as joyful about this as he thought he should, he was not fool enough not to recognize this event for what it was. A miracle.

…

TBC…

Okay, to clear up any confusion: Legolas and Alanna got married, and then a week later, slept together. That was the fourteenth day of Alanna's cycle, which according to my Bio textbook, is the time when most women ovulate. Two weeks pass, and the first signs of morning sickness manifest itself. She's late, too. That's how they discover that they're pregnant before even being married for a month (something that was bugging me for awhile before I did the math).

Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter. Next chapter will have the students returning from their vacation, which I know you've been looking forward to. Congrats to all those people who guessed that Alanna had pregnant. It was pretty obvious, though, LOL. Anyways, I have to go. Please review!


	23. School Begins

Title: Until We Reach Valinor

Chapter 23: School Begins

NOTE: This story is sequel to "A Teacher's Duty" and you'll have to read that one first to understand this. Also, this story does _not_ contain slash, and it is _not_ a romance, despite what the first chapter might suggest.

SPECIAL THANKS to Cassie, for beta-reading, and for her great advice. And thanks to Kellen, too, for helping me to name Alannna.

…

The day after Legolas and Alanna had discovered that they were going to be parents, the fifteen students who had been handpicked by Aragorn arrived from Gondor. There were twelve boys and three girls, escorted by two of Aragorn's most trusted guards and the mother of one of the girls. Three of the boys were from the wealthiest and most respected families in Gondor, members of nobility; and these clung together and looked down their noses at the rest. The other boys were the sons of farmers or blacksmiths or stable hands who were in search of the better life they could have with army pay. The girls were without exception the daughters of men who had served in Gondor's army for decades, and had, in some cases, even been decorated for their actions in battle. They were much respected and moderately wealthy. Naturally, Legolas thought, it was such men, who had seen the things that happened to women if they were captured by the enemy, who would most want their daughters to learn self-defense from the best of instructors. Legolas greeted everyone, introduced himself and Alanna, and then told the servants to take them to their rooms.

Two days later, the Elven students also began to arrive in droves. Many of them were accompanied by extended as well as immediate family; who were all eager to pay their respects to Legolas, and to meet their new Queen. Alanna did not do well under scrutiny even at the best of times, and now, with her pregnancy wreaking havoc on her hormones, she was even worse. She was not actually _rude_ to anyone, for which Legolas was very thankful; but her face showed her irritation plainly. Everyone who had come expecting to see a breathtakingly beautiful, elegant, and soft-spoken She-Elf, someone who in their eyes was a fit companion for their, handsome, aristocratic King, went home sorely disappointed.

The thirty students from the first batch of were also curious about who their teacher had chosen to marry. They had seen him only two months ago, and as far as they knew, he hadn't even been courting anyone. And now, here he was, not only married but also their King. Many of them had also heard of Legolas's furious defense of Alanna and his treatment of Aradhel, and the girls, at least, had taken it into their heads that he was madly in love with her. That was, at least, the only reason Legolas could think of to explain why they all kept giving him knowing smiles and giggling to each other whenever they glimpsed him and Alanna walking or talking together.

Alanna had a difficult time dealing with the sudden increase in noise and activity levels in the palace. Legolas was unsurprised, even though Alanna herself had been convinced that she would only find delight in being surrounded by laughter and chatter. Yet the fact remained that she was unaccustomed to so much noise after all her isolated years, and as he had predicted, was constantly getting startled and dropping things. But she was inherently warm and friendly by nature, so she was able to put aside her discomfort fairly quickly. Her first lesson was a rousing success. Legolas had thoughtfully scheduled it to three days after his classes actually started, by which time she was much more used to being constantly surrounded by groups of chattering children. He had also made sure that her classroom was close to a bathroom in case she was overcome by morning sickness.

She was understandably nervous when she entered the classroom for the first time, even though she had spent days preparing. Legolas watched from outside the window, standing among the shadows so he wouldn't increase her anxiety. The children, an assortment of about thirty Elflings, were seated. They watched her, their gazes measuring, and Legolas winced, knowing it would only make her more on edge. And when Alanna was on edge, Legolas knew from experience, accidents tended to happen. Sure enough, not a minute before she'd entered the classroom and nervously asked everyone to introduce themselves, she had managed to send the vase on her desk crashing to the ground. All the students froze, Legolas groaned silently from where he was standing, and Alanna cringed, squeezing her eyes shut. For a few moments, no one moved.

Then Alanna opened her eyes and said, rather sheepishly, "You'll have to forgive me. I tend to be rather clumsy, and it's worse when I'm nervous. I would advise you to keep any breakable items far away from me in the future." Then she laughed; nervously, but with a grace that showed that it was not the first time she had laughed at herself.

Legolas, in the meantime, was watching the unfolding scene in mild horror. Had she actually just…admitted to being nervous? _Alanna, you never show your students your vulnerabilities! You may not be perfect, but you have to make them think you are! _But the children didn't react as he expected them to. Instead of the thinly veiled disrespect and mild contempt for Alanna that Legolas had expected, the atmosphere became relaxed and friendly. Rather than making the children think they could intimidate her, the familiar, almost conspiratorial tone she had addressed them in disarmed them. And when the introductions were complete, and Alanna began to talk about what she intended to make them learn over the next year, her cheeks glowed and her eyes sparkled with animation, and she forgot her nervousness, and her students fell completely in love with her.

Legolas watched in amazement, incredulity and some wonder as Alanna managed with no effort at all to do in to two hours what he had taken two months to achieve. Her methods were so radically different than his that had he tried them, they would have failed miserably. They did not suit his personality; but they suited hers. She had a very soft, unassuming way of disciplining them. If someone wasn't paying attention, she would catch their eye and give them a mildly reproachful look, and they would fall silent at once. Once, when someone was distractedly tapping on his desk with the tip of a quill, instead of saying anything to stop him, Alanna moved slowly across the room without breaking the flow of her words, and gently pulled the quill out of his hand and placed it onto the desk. Then she moved away, never having actually reprimanded the boy, but having made her point just the same.

When the class was over, Alanna requested, in the politest tones, that her students revise what she had taught them that lesson, and dismissed them. They all trooped out at once, but with somewhat less eagerness than usual; they had all clearly enjoyed the lesson. Alanna followed after them, but turned in the opposite direction as them…and stopped short when Legolas guiltily stepped out of the shadows near the window. He hadn't intended to spy on her for the entire lesson, but the way she had interacted with them had been so fascinating that he had stayed against his better judgment. But rather than being offended, she walked straight up to him, all her nervousness returning tenfold as she awaited his judgment.

"How did I do?" She asked, clasping and unclasping herself in her anxiety.

Legolas shook his head, amazed that she could doubt herself after that performance. "Wonderfully," He said, "I think you were born to teach, Alanna, really. That was a thousand times better than my first lesson. Trust me, that was nothing short of incredible."

"Truly?" Alanna asked, and then, not waiting for his answer, "It felt amazing," She said, "I enjoyed it so much. Teaching. I didn't think I would, but I did." The childlike excitement in her tone made him smile.

"You were very good with them," He said; and then, on an impulse, he said what had been flashing through his mind ever since she had started the lesson. "You're going to make a wonderful mother some day, Alanna." He froze; then shook off the discomfort. He hadn't intended to say the words, but he had meant them. And hadn't he promised himself only last week that he would be less impersonal in his interactions with her.

Alanna looked stunned for a moment, and then her face melted into a warm, grateful smile. "You don't know how much that means to me," She said softly. "Thank you."

Legolas smiled back with equal warmth, feeling a pleasant, but momentary closeness to Alanna, the likes of which he had never felt before. "You're welcome," He said.

…

Legolas sighed in frustration. It wasn't the first class he had had that year, for school had started a week ago. So far, it had been far better than the previous year, because Legolas had learnt from his mistakes. Rather than jumping straight into lessons, or starting to discipline the students immediately and win nothing but their indignation, he was much more patient with them. Though they hadn't warmed to him as they had to Alanna, at least he hadn't made enemies out of them.

But this class, this particular class, was proving to be more difficult. It was the first time he was actively teaching the fifteen human teenagers some basic moves with the sword. He had first asked them to spar with him and then, based on their individual skill levels; he had paired them off…or tried to.

"I'm sorry, Your Highness, but I cannot spar with a lady!"

"Please call me sir, Doroth, and allow me to point out that you'll be fighting with wooden swords," Legolas stated, for the fifth time. "You couldn't possibly hurt them."

"We could still give them bruises, perhaps even broken bones," Doroth said adamantly. All the other boys looked equally adamant- although Doroth had been the only one brave enough to defy Legolas openly. That was another problem he was facing; everyone, including some of his older students, were hugely intimidated by him since he was the King, and no longer just the Prince, teaching them.

"And what do _you _think?" Legolas asked, turning to the girls. For the seventh or eighth time that day, they leaped nearly out of their skins, still unaccustomed to the swiftness with which Elves moved. "Would you find it equally repugnant to fight with them?" He asked.

"I would not, sir," Eliya, the most feisty-looking of the lot, replied immediately. The other girls shot her looks of disapproval, but she ignored them. "I am here to learn how to defend myself, and I hardly think I'll ever have to defend myself against women."

"That is an excellent point, Eliya; thank you," Legolas replied. It was actually the reason he was being so forceful on this particular issue; ordinarily, he wouldn't have gone against their customs and culture. He turned to the boys, having already seen that the other girls would brave fire and brimstone before they agreed to fight with members of the opposite sex. He would have to give them time to get used to the idea. "In that vein, are any of you willing to be paired with Eliya?"

There was a long silence, and then one of them very hesitantly stepped forward. "Only as long as we are using wooden swords so I won't be able to hurt her," He said, casting Eliya, and then Legolas an uneasy look. Legolas touched his shoulder reassuringly, and Eliya stepped up to his side, looking very pleased with herself.

Doroth, however, was not so easy to convince. He was the son of one of the richest nobles in Gondor, and Legolas, in spite of his resolution to try not to make lasting impressions of his students based on their first few weeks with him; had been unable to help taking an instant dislike to him. He scrupulously hid it, of course, but there was something very petty and mean-spirited about Doroth which made him think of the upcoming years in which he would have to teach him, and heave a mental sigh. The better part of the class had taken a similar dislike to their haughty, aristocratic classmate, but he did have a small following; unsurprisingly it was made up of the other two boys who came from similar backgrounds.

"Sire!" He exclaimed now, and Legolas noted with irritation that even after repeatedly telling him otherwise, Doroth still insisted on calling him that. "You cannot tarnish the reputation of a respectable maiden like Eliya by forcing her to engage in close contact with a mere peasant!"

"You be quiet!" Eliya retorted swiftly, her black eyes flashing with sudden fire, "Peasant or no, it's my choice whether I wish to spar with him or not. And I have no objection at all to partnering with him."

The 'peasant' in question, a tall, strong lad by name of Eranon, flushed in embarrassment, though not so much because of Doroth's insult. That had become fairly run of the mill over the last few days. No, he was more embarrassed by Eliya's choice of words, particularly the use of the word 'partnering' with all it's connotations, in relation to him. He made as if to step back in line, but Legolas grasped him firmly by the shoulder. "No," He said, "You're staying right there." He turned to Doroth, his face stern. "While you are under my roof, you would do well to bear in mind that I will not under any circumstances tolerate discrimination over birth or rank or the occupation of your fathers. Here, you are all equals in my eyes. And I will expect you treat each other as such while you are here. If you do not," He added in an ominous tone, his eyes on Doroth, "Then bear in mind that there will be consequences."

A rather stunned silence followed this reprimand. Looking at the pale, downcast faces around him, Legolas suddenly wished he had used a less threatening tone. He quickly resumed the lesson, not wanting the silence to grow too long. But even though he gentled his tone and made sure not to chastise anyone else for the rest of the lesson, the atmosphere remained charged and even a little fearful. He was distinctly uneasy when he left the classroom that day.

…

That evening, Legolas was catching up on some paperwork in his study when Aragorn knocked on the door. "Could I have a moment, please, Legolas?" He said, "I would speak with you."

"Yes, of course, Aragorn. Sit down. What's the matter? Why are you looking so...?"

Aragorn sighed, "Doroth told me this morning that you threatened to cane him for calling one of the other boys a peasant."

"He said I did _what?!_" Legolas exclaimed, shocked beyond measure. "I did no such thing! Aragorn, you know I would never…"

"Yes, I _know_ that," Aragorn interrupted hurriedly, "I'm not accusing you. I was merely wondering _what_ you said to make him think that you would do such a thing. He was quite scared when he came to me, and I could tell that he believed with all seriousness that you had threatened him. I reassured him that you were incapable of beating anyone, let alone a child, and that even if you were capable of it, _I_ would never let any harm come to him. But even so, he's vowed to write to his father, Legolas, and that will cause problems for me because he is a member of my royal council. What on earth did you _say_ to him to make him think such a thing?"

Legolas looked at Aragorn in dismay. "I just told him that I wouldn't tolerate discrimination from anyone living under my roof," He said, "And that if he didn't adhere to that, there would be consequences."

Aragorn's face cleared. "That explains it," He said. "You are clearly unfamiliar with the ways of Gondorian schoolmasters," He added, when he saw Legolas's look of continued confusion. "In Gondor, and even in Rohan, it is fairly commonplace to use the cane to discipline schoolchildren. But it is used with moderation, and never on children as old as these. As you know, sixteen and seventeen among humans is fairly close to adulthood. I suppose Doroth thought that you meant to cane him when you mentioned consequences."

Legolas groaned. "Wonderful. Now they'll think I'm some sort of cruel, violent-"

"No, they won't," Aragorn interrupted, "Give them another week with you and they know you would never do any such thing."

But Legolas shook his head. He was shaken by what he had accidentally conveyed to because of some ill-chosen words. He had thought that he would be insulated from cultural misunderstandings because of how many years he had spent in the world of Men, but apparently it wasn't the case. "I will have to make it quite clear in tomorrow's class what I meant when I said that," He said, "And still they will probably think it's because _you _spoke to me about it, and continue to fear me in the back of their minds. As it is they are intimidated by the fact that I am King. And now this…"

"Oh, Legolas don't exaggerate. You talk as though the world is coming to an end," Aragorn said, trying to lift his spirits. "This is far better than last year. Count your blessings; at least you've managed to keep from making them all hate you… _so far,_" He added teasingly.

"Thank you for the vote of confidence," Legolas answered dryly, not amused.

But he was cheered all the same. So the year was proving to be more of a challenge than he had originally anticipated. But when had that ever stopped him? In fact, he thought sardonically, he practically _lived_ for challenges.

…

TBC…

I know it's shorter than usual, but I thought this was a logical place to stop.

I'm so sorry it's been so long since my last update, but I couldn't help it. I was out of town, holidaying in England with my family, for two weeks. I'm back now, though, and I immediately started working on this so I could post it as soon as possible. I hope you guys enjoyed reading it. Please review!


	24. I Will Always Catch You

Title: Until We Reach Valinor

Chapter 24: I Will Always Catch You

NOTE: Unfortunately, this chapter hasn't been beta-read. I'm having problems with my internet connection thanks to the rains (somehow, every time the monsoons come to Mumbai, all the serves seem to fail). One of my net connections is working, but one isn't- an inexplicable phenomenon that could only happen in my country. I didn't want to wait for this to be beta-read- who knows when the working connection will decide to break down? So I'm posting this from my mom's laptop. My apologies to you all if I've missed a few typos. Happy reading!

…

Legolas's life settled into a comfortable routine consisting of teaching, working on political concerns, and spending time with his wife. He and Alanna had grown more and more comfortable with each other as the busy days turned into weeks and then months. Now that neither of them had to worry about sleeping together until well after the baby was born, they were less tense and treated each other less cautiously. Legolas, who at the beginning of their acquaintance had had trouble responding to some of the things Alanna said, was now able to converse with her easily and at length. Most of their conversations were related to teaching, or some book from the library that they had both read (although these were few and far between), or a problem among the students that they had both noticed and wanted each other's opinion on. But sometimes, an intimacy would spring up between them, and then they would talk about other, more personal things. Such moments did not come very often, and rarely lasted long when they did, but everything of import they knew about each other's character had been gleaned somewhere during those moments. Though they were not friends, not yet; every time Alanna made a revealing remark, or Legolas said something more demonstrative than usual, they moved closer to friendship.

In fact, the only blemish on the normality Legolas's life had assumed was Elano, who day by day was becoming more withdrawn and depressed. The regular letters he received from his mother's nurse only brought him more bad news. There was no doubt about it- she was slowly, but surely fading; even though it would probably take a few years for the situation to become critical. She would not consume anything willingly save for alcohol. Everyone had noticed the change in him, but only a select few knew of its cause. Celin was beside himself with worry, and was very indignant that Elano had refused to confide in him. Legolas had to take him aside as often as twice in a week to sternly reprimand him for pestering his friend. On the days that the letters arrived, Legolas would without exception go to Elano's room every night and hold him as he wept in despair. He would often spend the night at his side, trying to keep the nightmares at bay. He still feared that Elano would lose the will to live if his mother died. The Elf's eyes had always been sad, but now they were haunted. He was continually exhausted, and had also lost his appetite.

Once again, Alanna surprised Legolas by saving the day. She took it upon herself to make sure that Elano did not neglect himself completely. It was a real effort on her part to be always bright and chirpy during mealtimes where she would rather have been silent and pensive, and her nerves were always slightly more frayed than normal as a result. But she did Elano wonders without allowing him to feel that she was doing anything out of the ordinary. She would try to engage his interest through conversation, and he would eat mechanically, without actually realizing what he was doing.

Of course, this only worked when she spoke on topics that interested him, and there were few of these that she had in common with him. So one day, she amazed everyone by suddenly spouting out something about some obscure Elven healing technique. At Elano's eager questions, she explained it away by saying that she had always been interested in healing. But Legolas found out later that she had actually spent time researching it in the library. Since she already spent more than half her spare time there, obsessively going over her lesson plans, he knew this was no small thing. But she waved away his appreciation and his thanks, saying she was being entirely selfish since she had grown quite fond of Elano and wouldn't want anything to happen to him. But Legolas knew, although he would never admit it to himself; that she was also doing it because she knew how much Elano meant to him.

In the meantime, her morning sickness, though severe in the first few weeks of her pregnancy, more or less wore off by the third month, much to her and Legolas's mutual relief. Day by day, as her pregnancy advanced, her aura glowed brighter and brighter due to a combination of joy and the addition of her baby's life-force to her own. The midwife said that the baby must be extraordinarily healthy for such a change to be noticeable so early, but Legolas put it down to Alanna herself. Excepting the moments of moodiness and the odd occasion when she would begin to cry for something as trivial as a continually recurring spelling mistake in a student's work, she was happier than he had ever seen her.

Sometimes, when she thought he wasn't looking, he would catch her looking down at her stomach with such a tender expression that he was forced to look away, overcome. Once, when he went to seek her in the library, he found her not reading or preparing for her next lesson, but singing a soft lullaby to her unborn child. Embarrassed, he had drawn back, listening to her lilting tones until the song drew to a finish, and then entered as if he hadn't seen or heard anything out of the ordinary. Such instances also made him bitterly regret what he had never actually felt before; the absence of his own mother in his life. It wasn't that he hadn't missed her, but his father had not held back in giving him all the love and care he could ever have asked for. But now, when he saw how much Alanna obviously loved the child, he was beginning to see what he had missed.

"That child is going to be very lucky," He remarked to her once as they were getting ready for bed. "Far luckier than you and I ever were."

"Why? Because both of us are alive?" She asked.

"No, although yes; that's also true, come to think of it. Actually, I meant that it's lucky because it's going to have a mother that dotes on it more than life itself."

"But Legolas, most children _do_ have parents who dote on them more than life itself," Alanna pointed out. "For Elves, parenthood is a great thing- it causes a lot of celebration. I'm hardly an exception."

"And how many parents have you met in your lifetime?" Legolas countered. "I thought you lived in a castle-sized house and barely met anyone all your life? How do you know you're not exceptional?"

"A valid point," Alanna conceded. "But I'm sure that _most_ parents…"

"Most," Legolas agreed, "But not all." He looked away, his voice dropping slightly. "For instance…both our mothers died in childbirth. And that isn't natural- it shouldn't happen, to Elves. They lost the will to live- yours because of your father's death, and mine because of the situation with my father's first wife and Ivana. But the fact remains that their love for us wasn't important enough for them to stay for our sakes. I'm not saying that's wrong," He added quickly when he realized what that sounded like, "Or that I blame them for it, but would you ever leave your child motherless? No matter what the circumstances."

"No. Never," Alanna replied without hesitation. "I suppose you're right." She hesitated. "I thought I was the only one who thought like that."

"Thought like what?"

"What you said," She added, in a very low voice, "About our mothers not loving us enough to live for our sakes? I always…felt guilty for thinking it…for resenting it."

"So did I," Legolas said very quietly.

It was one of those moments. When it passed, he suddenly felt very uncomfortable, almost as if one of the darkest parts of his soul had been exposed to her. Even though he wasn't sleepy, he lay down. "Goodnight, Alanna."

"Goodnight, Legolas."

…

It had become routine for Alanna to attend Legolas's archery lessons. It had first started during the first week of school, when she had wanted to see him actually teaching a lesson, just as he had watched her first lesson. Legolas had invited her for one of the sparring lessons, but she had only stayed five minutes, for to everyone's great amusement and incredulity, she had been unable to stand the scrapes and bruises that the children sustained, and the loud clatter of wood on wood. She felt decidedly foolish afterwards, but noise made her feel jittery, and she couldn't stomach watching the children get 'injured,' as she called it.

Oddly disappointed, Legolas had invited her to one of his archery lessons with his second year students. At first she was reluctant, but when he explained to her that archery would not result in any 'injury' because it didn't involve close combat, she agreed. She enjoyed the lesson greatly, not least because she was fascinated by the rapport Legolas had with his second year students. The children, greatly wanting to impress Alanna, outdid themselves. Legolas was so impressed by the effect she had on their performances that he invited her to come again, and very soon, she was attending all of his second year archery lessons. She would sit to one side, on a blanket in a patch of sunlight, watching, sometimes reading and even correcting papers. Since the lessons took place early on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, it became customary for them to walk down together instead of separately. One such morning found Legolas pacing impatiently near the bathroom. He hated being late for his classes.

"Alanna!" He called. "I don't mean to rush you, but we really _must _leave right now if we're to get to class on time." It was a ten minute walk to the archery fields from their bedchamber.

"Just a moment," Alanna's voice came from the bathroom door. A few seconds later, she emerged, and started walking towards the door. "I'm sorry. Morning sickness."

Legolas frowned in concern as he fell into step beside her. "I thought the midwife said that was over and done with? It's the fourth month, isn't it?"

Alanna looked down at the stomach and made a face. "Tell that to our darling here. Sometimes- not often, thank the Valar- we decide to be temperamental just to prove everyone else wrong. And drive our poor _naneth_ to distraction in the process. Don't we, dearest?" She rubbed her stomach gently.

Legolas smiled, amused. "You're going to spoil her to death," He said, teasingly.

"_Her?_" She said, "When did you decide it was a girl?"

Legolas shrugged, a little embarrassed. "I just have a strong..._feeling_that it will be, for lack of a better way of explaining it," He blurted, very conscious how irrational this sounded.

"Yes, well," Alanna looked down at her stomach, her expression doubtful, "_I'm_ the one who's carrying it, and to me he feels like a _he._"

Legolas stopped short. "Why didn't you tell me?" He demanded, "I had no idea that Elven mothers could tell the gender of their babies!"

"That's because Elven mothers _can't_ tell the gender of their babies, any more than human mothers can," Alanna stated, and then laughed at his expression. "What? I said it _felt_ like a he. Just like you have a strong feeling that it's a she. I suppose we'll both have to wait and find out which of us is right."

"I suppose we will." Legolas replied, blushing in embarrassment at the way he had revealed his ignorance.

Soon, they were nearing the archery fields. Legolas smiled at the veritable roar of laughter and conversation that he could hear even before the fields were in sight. It was amazing how much noise teenagers could make even when they were trying not to. He turned to Alanna to comment on it, but froze when he saw that there was a discarded bow lying right in front of her. Before he could tell her to watch her step, her feet got caught in the string, and with a cry of dismay and alarm, she began to fall, face first towards the ground. Heart in his mouth, Legolas leaped forward, stretching out his arms to catch her. Her entire weight fell on them, and they both went down in a heap of arms and legs, but Legolas still managed to position himself so that she landed on top of him, only winded by the fall. For a few moments, they just lay there, stunned, listening to each others breathing. Then, Alanna jerked away from him, her eyes wide and horrified when he realized what had nearly happened. "Valar," She breathed, her hand flying down to cup her belly.

Legolas, too, paled at the though of what had nearly happened. But he quickly had to pull himself together because Alanna was hyperventilating, or very near it. Knowing he had to calm her, both for her and the baby's sake, he said in what he hoped passed for a soothing voice, "Alanna, nothing's happened to the baby. Our son or daughter is completely unscathed. Please Alanna, you have to calm down."

"But…but…" Alanna's breaths were short and panicky. Her forehead was bathed in cold sweat. "I nearly killed…our baby…"

A sudden shock went through Legolas at the words. "No!" He said forcefully, gripping her by the shoulders, "This wasn't your fault. It was the fault of the thoughtless cretin who left the bow in the middle of a footpath. I could wring his neck!" He added in a burst of anger. Alanna blanched at his harsh tone, and he quickly softened his tone so as not to alarm her. She was still extremely shaky and had yet to regain her palor. "You can't blame yourself for this, Alanna," He rose. "Come. I'm taking you back to the room and canceling today and tomorrow's lessons. Just rest for today; and everything will seem better by tomorrow."

He slowly led the dazed, still quaking Alanna back to their bedchamber. To his great concern, she had not regained her color even after the long walk back; but he knew that he couldn't just leave the students to themselves, so he called her maid, explained what had happened to her, and left her to comfort Alanna. During his walk back to the archery fields, he struggled to compose himself and think rationally about what had happened. He did not want to allow his fears for his child and concern for Alanna to cloud his judgment. He knew that if he found out who had left the bow in the middle of the footpath he wouldn't be able to stop himself from giving him or her an unfairly harsh punishment. The truth was; every last _one_ of the teenagers was careless with their belongings. This was not the first time someone had discarded a bow in that manner. Once, he had found some arrows left on the _kitchen table_. Every now and then, bows, swords, books, quills and inkpots would turn up in the strangest of locations, and Legolas had long since stopped wondering at it. He knew it would be unfair to single out one student to punish for careless.

When he reached the archery fields, he was pleasantly surprised to find that Celin had gone ahead and started class in his absence. The moment they caught sight of him, despite the fact that they were all extremely curious about the reason for his tardiness, they all quieted down. Legolas was again impressed, until he realized that they knew him well enough to sense by his unusually grave countenance that something was seriously wrong- and they were to blame. Because he wanted to impress upon them the seriousness of the situation, he did not try to lighten the mood. "Celin, Linnor; please go and fetch all the first year students and ask them to gather here immediately," He said in a voice that left them in no doubt, if they still had any, about the graveness of the matter. "Tell Lord Aragorn that it's urgent."

Exchanging confused, slightly fearful glances, the pair did as they were told and sped off swiftly. The others remained in absolute silence, all careful not to look at each other or at their teacher. Legolas could guess at how furiously their minds were working to figure out what they had done wrong; but although he sympathized, he wasn't letting them off the hook that easily. Instead, he walked away without any explanation, in order to find the discarded bow, which was still lying in the middle of the footpath. He retrieved it, and returned to where he had left the children. Five minutes later, the entire school (Aragorn included) was gathered around the archery fields. There was a buzz of frantic whispers from among the students. They quieted instantly when he stepped forward to address them.

"I don't want to know whose this is," He said, holding up the bow to show them. "Because I know that almost all of you are equally careless. I found this in the middle of the footpath leading here." He paused, waiting for this to sink in, and felt a stab of irritation when he saw them relax slightly and exchange questioning looks when they realized the triviality of the offence he was pulling them up for. Aragorn, also, looked perplexed. "Well, 'found' is probably the wrong word," Legolas continued. "I _discovered_ it when my wife nearly tripped head over heels over it while we were walking here." Aragorn paled instantly in understanding. "Luckily, I was able to catch her before any damage was done," Legolas continued quickly to save Aragorn from undue alarm. "But it was a very near thing."

He looked around at them, his gaze penetrating. "Ordinarily, I would not force you to answer for so minor an offence," He added, having decided that honesty would have the greatest impact in this particular case. "You know that I've always been very tolerant of such things. Not to mention that such an accident, for my wife, is nothing out of the ordinary." There were some titters of agreement at this. "But Alanna is with child now-" there were gasps all around at this piece of intelligence - "-and that makes her much more vulnerable; and the consequences of such thoughtlessness _much_ more serious. So please, in the future, do not leave your belongings around in this manner. This time, since I know that you were ignorant of the consequences, I will not mete out any punishments. But if anything like this ever happens again, then the consequences _will_ be dire." His words fell heavily on the ears of the students before them, who were all struck with horror and guilt.

Legolas kept them while he repeated the entire speech in the Common Tongue for the benefit of the human children, who, being closer to marriageable and childbearing ages themselves, were even more affected than the others. He was about to dismiss them all, well satisfied that he had impressed upon them how terrible the consequences of the accident could have been, when to his displeasure, Doroth's shrill, whining voice rang through the air.

"Sir, that bow belongs to the peasant Eranon! I am sure of it!"

Legolas's eyes flashed with anger, and Eranon, thinking it was directed at him, paled. Eliya immediately opened her mouth to defend her by this time fast friend and sparring partner, but Legolas spoke first. "Do not lie to me, Doroth, or think that you can fool me so easily," He said with the studied iciness that all his students had long since learnt to be wary of, "That bow cannot _possibly_ belong to Eranon because it is of Elven make. I specifically told you I did not want to know who this belonged to, and I don't appreciate your telling tales." His classmates, who were all glaring at him with one accord, didn't seem to appreciate it much either, Legolas noted with satisfaction.

"I think I have told you time and time again that I won't tolerate discrimination under my roof," He continued. "I thought you would have learnt that after I gave you two weeks of cleaning the tables and clearing the dishes only last month, but apparently not. Maybe if I add helping in the gardens to the other chores, you'll finally get the point. And the next time you call anyone a 'peasant', I'll add sweeping and swabbing the floor to it." He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself. Doroth always got under his skin, and today was even worse than usual because he hadn't been in a good mood to begin with. "There will be no more lessons today as I will have to see after Alanna. If I were you, I would use this time to gather any other scattered belongings you might have, to prevent any further accidents. Please don't take this at all lightly. Good morning."

He turned and walked away from the clearing, trying not to be too conscious of the stunned silence he was leaving behind him. He knew the children wouldn't forget what he had told them anytime soon. Shaking the image of their guilt-stricken faces out of his head with an effort, he quickened his pace towards his bedchamber. He had never seen Alanna in such a state before, and he was very worried

…

In spite of Legolas's concern, Alanna seemed to regain her equilibrium fairly quickly. But Legolas still felt that something was wrong- her cheerfulness seemed slightly forced, and her conversation was considerably subdued. When he brought it up with Aragorn, the Man told him not to worry, that he was making too much of it. But Legolas couldn't shake the feeling that Alanna had been deeply affected by the accident. Three days later he received confirmation when one of his students approached him to tell him that Alanna had not attended any of her classes since the accident.

His concern soaring to new heights, he hurried immediately to the library, where Alanna could normally be found when she wasn't teaching. To his surprise, upon reaching there, he discovered that she wasn't there, and found out from the librarian that she hadn't been to the library in the last three days. Now he was seriously alarmed, because nothing short of a calamity could keep Alanna away from the library. He hastened to their bedchamber, startling Alanna, who promptly dropped the book she was reading and rose, alarmed.

"Legolas!" She exclaimed when she saw who it was, "You scared me half to death, storming in, in that manner."

"I just found out that you haven't attended a single class since the accident," He said, getting straight to the point. To Alanna's surprise, he did not sound accusatory- just concerned. "Why didn't you tell me it was still affecting you?" Legolas asked.

Alanna lowered her eyes. "It isn't affecting me," She said, not sounding in the least convincing, even to her own ears.

"Then why haven't you been attending classes?" Legolas demanded, "Why haven't you been to the library in three days?"

"Morning sickness," Alanna said, even less convincingly.

"You're a terrible liar, Alanna," Legolas stated softly. Alanna deflated at his knowing, compassionate tone; flopping back onto the bed and refusing to meet his eyes. "Why don't you tell me what's _really_ bothering you?" He continued to press her. "Are you worried about the children leaving their things around the classroom? Because you don't have to be. I gave them quite a lecture on their carelessness, and they've been so careful since then. You really don't have to worry about something like this ever happening again."

"Yes, I _do_ have to worry about it," She snapped, raising her head suddenly and looking him full in the face. He was dismayed to see tears streaming down her cheeks. "I've a_lways_ had to worry about it- I _always _will. I'm responsible for two lives now- and I was born with this clumsiness; and no matter what I do, I can't seem to shield my child from it!" Her voice shook with emotion. "It's always been my worst fear, to lose my baby because I trip over a carpet or fall down the stairs. I've been having nightmares about it for _years. Centuries."_ She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself, but the attempt failed. "Didn't you notice that I stopped wearing those long, voluminous dresses immediately when I found out that I was pregnant? I was terrified that I would trip over them. I wear the simplest of dresses now, with as few layers as possible. I try to walk so carefully, I actually make an effort to look where I'm going; and that's not easy, for someone like me, whose mind is always wandering; out of my control. And still, something like this happens…" She shook her head, her face full of despair. "No matter how hard I try to be careful, even if I don't leave this room for the next five months, I'll _still_ slip in the bathroom or trip over my slippers in the night, or something. I'm going to get our baby killed, and I hate myself for it."

A sudden chill passed over Legolas at these words. "No!" He all but shouted, "Don't say that. Don't ever say that. This isn't your fault. It was the person who left the bow in the middle of the footpath. It could have happened to anyone. And the children promised me- it won't happen again. You are _not_ going to get our baby killed. You shouldn't hate yourself. Please…don't ever say that you hate yourself."

Alanna's face was still sad. "We both know that I'm clumsy and accident prone. No matter what I do, what people around me do; there will always be something..."

"But I caught you, didn't I?" Legolas demanded, "I will always catch you. You don't trust yourself. But do you at least trust me?"

"Yes," Alanna said without hesitation. "Of course I do."

"Then _trust me_ when I tell you that I will always be there to catch you when you fall. Trust me to never let any harm come to you or our child. I swear to you, I will always be there to catch you."

"You can't _always _be there," Alanna protested.

"But I have been when it counted most, haven't I?" Legolas said, "Have I ever failed to stop you from tripping _once_ since our marriage? I take your arm. I stay at your side. _I catch you when you fall_- I always do- I always will."

His intensity, more than his words, was what finally made her believe him. "Always," She said, very, very softly.

"Always," Legolas's tone was equally low. "I swear it. _Always."_

Years later, he would look back on the moment as being the first time that he ever acknowledged the permanence of his bond with Alanna. The first time that he ever made a promise to her that went beyond its literal meaning, beyond their agreement, beyond 'until we reach Valinor,' and into 'until eternity fades.' It was also the first and only promise he would consider himself as having broken.

…

TBC…

And I will leave you to break your heads over that delicious bit of foreshadowing. I'm so sorry I haven't updated in so long. I've been in Delhi, doing a multitude of entrance tests and interviews for my college admissions. Thankfully, all the stress is now over, and I'm happy to say that I got admission to one of the best college for English Honors in India, St. Stephen's College. I can't believe that I got in; because it's even more competitive and difficult to get admission to than Cambridge …I suppose I just lucked out or something. Anyway, I'll be leaving for Delhi in mid-July, but don't worry, my parents have promised to by me a laptop and I'll have internet access where I'm staying. I don't intend to give up this story. Hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Ta!


	25. Time Goes By

Title: Until We Reach Valinor

Chapter 25: Time Goes By

NOTE: This story is sequel to "A Teacher's Duty" and you'll have to read that one first to understand this. Also, this story does not contain slash, and it is _not_ a romance, despite what the first chapter might suggest.

SPECIAL THANKS to Cassie, for beta-reading previous chapters, even though she seems to have disappeared on me again. She's probably fallen sick again, and I hope she gets well. And thanks to Kellen, too, for helping me to name Alanna.

…

"Your child is perfectly healthy," said the midwife during Alanna's five-monthly check-up, "Exceptionally so, in fact. For you grow brighter day by day. I have known Elves at the end of their pregnancy who do not have such bright auras."

Alanna beamed with pride. "Did you hear that?" She asked, speaking to the swell of her belly. "You are going to be the strongest, healthiest baby in the history of Elfkind. Do you like that, sweetheart?"

Legolas smiled as he saw her glow even brighter in her joy. "It's not just the baby, you know," He told her later, "It's you, too."

"What do you mean?" Alanna frowned.

He smiled again. "You're so happy that it's making you glow. It's not just the baby. It happens to all mothers- but _more_ with you than others."

Alanna blushed. "Yes, well, I'm very happy," She muttered, half embarrassed by the turn the conversation had taken.

Another smile graced his features. "And so am I," He replied, and Alanna fell silent, because it was the first time he had admitted such a thing aloud.

…

"The Valar help me, that was one of the worst classes this year," Legolas sighed as he entered his bedchamber. Sighing again, he began to remove the armor he always wore for archery lessons (he had learnt the hard way how dangerous students could be when they were newly learning how to aim).

"Why, what happened?" Alanna asked, emerging from the recesses of her cupboard upon perceiving his entry.

"Doroth keeps _picking_ on Eranon, and since that boy is too much of a mouse to stand up for himself, Eliya has to do it for him. And the others make fun of both of them- of Eranon for being so spineless, and Eliya for being so forward. And that only serves to make Eranon _more_ withdrawn and Eliya _more_ aggressive." He shook his head in exasperation and flopped down on the bed.

Alanna was silent for a moment. "Don't take them so seriously, Legolas," She said, "They're all equally bad in my class. We just have to tolerate it. And anyway, I think Eliya is very good for Eranon. Without her, he'd be mercilessly bullied. And from what I hear we still have it easier now than you did last year."

Legolas sat up. "How do you know about last year?"

Alanna shrugged, slightly self-conscious. "Many of the students talk to me outside of classes about things unrelated to studies," She said.

"They confide in you?" Legolas said, with a surge of exultation. She nodded in conformation, and his heart lifted even further. "Just as I hoped- just as I _knew_ they would," He said.

"I'm sorry?" She asked, confused.

"I hoped for this even when I first proposed that you teach them," Legolas explained. "I actually expected it to happen. And _you_ thought you'd be a terrible teacher and ruin all the children with your bad example." He shook his head. "When on earth are you going to start believing in yourself a little more?"

Alanna did not reply, or laugh off the question. She was quiet for a moment; her body tense as she sat down beside him. "You believed in me, even _then?_" She asked, and the plea in her eyes and her voice told him that his answer meant a great deal to her.

His face softened. "Yes," He said, "Yes, I believed in you, even then…"

_…and I still do._

…

Legolas watched as Alanna huffed and puffed up the stairs to the landing where he, Aragorn, and Arwen were all waiting for her. "You're starting to waddle," He remarked.

Alanna stopped short. "I am not!" She squawked indignantly.

"Yes you are. Isn't she, Aragorn?"

"Well," Aragorn said, rather taken aback at being put on the spot like this, "She's six months pregnant, so it's only to be expected…"

"See? Straight from the horse's, or rather the healer's, mouth. I'm right."

Alanna drew herself up to her full height. "You don't know anything about it, Legolas Greenleaf," She declared, but her eyes were dancing with mischief.

"I know enough!" Legolas said, laughing. "And besides, can you see _yourself_ walking, except if you're doing it in front of a mirror? But _I_ can see you, and I say that you're waddling!"

As they continued up the stairs laughing and arguing good-naturedly, Aragorn turned to his wife. "He laughs so frequently now. He has ever since they got married. I've never seen him so at ease and happy in all the years I've known him." He said. "She's good for him."

"Yes," Arwen agreed, "Yes, she is."

…

"I'm very worried about Elano," were the first words out of Legolas's mouth when he returned to their bedchamber after another night spent by Elano's side.

"Yes," Alanna sighed, "Those letters…they're taking a terrible toll on him."

"And the worst thing is," Legolas said, "His mother's situation won't start to get critical for _years_ to come. I'm afraid that at this rate, he'll fade even faster than she does."

Alanna's breath caught. "No, no, Legolas; of course he won't. You're letting your fears run away with you."

"Am I?" He asked, and even though his expression was blank as always, she read the stark fear in his eyes. "I'm not so sure."

"Legolas, Elano loves you," Alanna said earnestly, "More than you realize. He won't leave you so easily."

"How can you be so sure?" He asked. "You weren't the last time we spoke of this. You said he had lost so much that there was probably little I could do to make him stay. How can you be sure now?"

"I'm sure because I know him now," Alanna replied, "He's always talking to me about you. He thinks the world of you." She placed a hand on his shoulder, reassuring him. "I'm not saying that he may not be in danger of fading _after _his mother passes- but _before?_ Certainly not, Legolas. He would never lose his will while both she and you are alive. You can be sure of that."

Legolas's shoulders rose as he inhaled deeply, and then relaxed perceptibly as he exhaled. "I'm still very concerned about him," He said, but this time, his voice was a little less taut, and she knew that he had taken heart from her words.

"And I'm concerned, too," She said, squeezing his shoulder gently before letting go. "But we can't let it become fear, Legolas. There's no reason. Not yet."

"No," He repeated softly. "Not yet." He was silent for a moment, thinking. Then, "Thank you, Alanna."

She smiled. "You're very welcome."

…

"Legolas?"

"Yes?"

She fidgeted slightly. "You know when a baby is born…custom dictates that the father should be present at the birth."

Legolas froze for a moment. "And do you not wish me to be present?" He asked carefully.

"It's…I don't want you to see me like that," She said in rush, "I know that you've already seen me…unclothed…but I'm still not comfortable with...well, you understand what I mean."

"Yes, I do," He said, "But Alanna, it's a very painful thing, from what I've heard. It will tax your body and your mind. You'll need _someone_ there to support you. Someone who isn't the midwife," He added when she opened her mouth to argue. "I suppose Arwen could…" He suggested, though rather doubtfully.

"No! No, I don't want Arwen there." She blushed at his raised eyebrows. "I don't mean that she wouldn't be able to support me competently," She said hurriedly. "But I just don't _know_ her well enough to share such an intimate experience with her."

"And who _do _you know well enough?" He asked.

Her answer was almost inaudible, because she was shocked to realize that it would have been the same even if Rilian had been alive. Legolas was, after all, the father of her baby. She'd never thought it would matter so much…but it did. "You," She whispered.

He sat back. "So you want me there to support you, but you don't want me to actually see you giving birth," He said flatly.

"I know it sounds ridiculous," She said, her cheeks crimson with embarrassment.

"No, it doesn't," He replied, his understanding tone instantly calming her. He thought for a moment. "What would you say to a cloth screen? I wouldn't be able to see you, but I'd be able to hear and speak to you. And if you needed me, I would be right there."

"That sounds perfect," She said, sighing in relief. "Thank you."

"You're very welcome."

…

"Legolas! Legolas! Wake up!"

The excitement in her voice woke him immediately. "What is it?"

"He kicked! Legolas, he kicked, for the first time...!"

She quickly took hold of his hand and laid it, palm down, against her stomach. They hadn't long to wait before Legolas, too, felt the solid bump against his hand. His heart filled with awe and wonder, as for the first time, he felt the movement of his child. _His child._ "Oh…" He whispered.

Alanna had tears of joy in her eyes. "My baby. My sweetheart. Little one…"

Legolas couldn't tear his eyes away from her stomach. "Oh, Alanna…"

"I know. I know."

The baby kicked again, and Legolas looked up, his eyes shining with joy and love for his unborn child. "We're going to be parents," He whispered. It was the first time it had really hit him; _sunk in_, like it never had before.

She took his hands in hers, and squeezed them gently. "Yes," She said softly, "Yes we are."

…

The rider arrived in the evening. Dread clogged Elano's senses. The letters were only supposed to arrive in the morning, and it had only been a week since he had received the last one. He walked numbly out to meet the horseman at the palace gates, one thought alone echoing in his mind.

_Please don't let her be dead…_

The horseman handed him the letter, his face somber.

_No, she isn't dead; she can't be dead… _

Numbly, he took the letter, barely noticing the Elf riding off.

_She wouldn't leave me all alone, not like this, not so soon…_

His hands clasped tightly around the letter, he walked blindly to wherever his feet were carrying him. He was aware only of his heart beating painfully in his chest. Finally, after endless moments of directionless walking, he worked up the courage to open it. His eyes pursued the words agonizingly, pleading with them for some hope, some reprieve... For a moment he stood frozen, the letter clutched loosely in his hands. Then his breath caught, and his eyes closed, and his hands clenched tightly around the letter, and he sank, slowly, painfully to the ground.

…

TBC…

And so the angst begins…

A shorter chapter than usually, I know, but it was a logical ending point. And anyway, I'm putting it up quite quickly this time, so I'm sure you won't mind _too_ much. Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Please review!


	26. Song of Despair

Title: Until We Reach Valinor

Chapter 26: Song of Despair

NOTE: This story is sequel to "A Teacher's Duty" and you'll have to read that one first to understand this. Also, this story does _not_ contain slash, and it is _not_ a romance, despite what the first chapter might suggest.

SPECIAL THANKS to Cassie, for beta-reading previous chapters, though she seems to have disappeared off the face of the earth. And to Kellen for helping me to name Alannna.

WARNING: From this point on, the story is going to take a turn for the dark and depressing. There will be periods of fluff and happiness, but most of it is going to be pretty sad, right up to the end. If you don't like this type of angst, then I suggest you stay away.

---

"Alanna, have you seen Elano anywhere?"

"No," Alanna answered, her brows furrowing, "I haven't seen him since lunch, yesterday. But it's not all that unusual for him to miss a meal these days."

"He didn't just miss a meal," Legolas replied, unable to keep the worry from his voice, "No one, including Celin, has seen him since yesterday. I checked with the librarian; she hasn't seen him either. And I just went to his room and found that his bed hasn't been slept in. Breakfast is in half an hour, and I don't want him missing that after he missed dinner last night. As it is, he pecks at his meals."

"He'll be around somewhere, Legolas," Alanna said vaguely, choosing to be optimistic even though she, also, was worried at hearing this. When he did not look reassured, she added, "Why don't you send for someone to go and check the grounds? Perhaps he's-" Celin burst into the room before she could finish.

"Sir!" He gasped, "You have to come at once! It's Elano- something's wrong with him- he's just sitting in the middle of the archery field with his eyes closed. He didn't respond even when I shouted his name directly into his ears! Oh, sir for a second I actually thought he was dead, but he's breathing. You have to come at once."

With that, he took off at a run again, knowing Legolas would follow soon, only thinking of heading back to where he had left his friend. Alarmed though he was at this news, as he quickly slipped his feet into his boots, Legolas spared a thought to Alanna. She was in her eighth month now, and he didn't like to leave her alone more than he absolutely had to, because the midwife had warned him that she could go into labour at any time, if the brightness of her aura was anything to go by. Alanna frowned for a moment, and then looked exasperated when she realized why he was pausing. "Don't be absurd, Legolas!" She cried, "I'll be perfectly alright. I can easily ring for Calianna if something happens. You needn't worry about me; go to Elano at once."

That was all he needed to turn and sprint after Celin as fast as his legs could carry him. Being both taller and fitter than the Elfling, he outstripped him within seconds and reached the archery fields in less than a minute, his heart pounding for reasons that had nothing to do with the exertion of his run. He very quickly spotted Elano, and forced himself to slow down as he approached. Elano was sitting exactly as Celin had described him; cross-legged on the grass, straight-backed and staring into space. Legolas also noted with dismay that the Elf was completely drenched from head to foot in _dew._ He realized with dawning horror that the younger Elf had probably been sitting there since the previous night, and moreover, that he probabhadn't moved one inch in that time, because there was a butterfly nestled on his shoulder, completely unheeded.

"Elano?" He said gently, crouching next to him. Elf didn't respond. "Elano?" Legolas said again, this time more sharply, placing a hand on the younger Elf's shoulder. He was startled as Elano flinched violently at the touch, and snapped his face towards him. He was breathing hard. The pain in his glazed, vacant, but thankfully open eyes was enough to stop Legolas in his tracks. It was a terrible, burning mixture of agony, heartbreak, and something he had never seen in Elano's eyes ever before, something he never thought he'd _ever_ see- _rage._

"Elano?" Legolas whispered, although he wasn't at all sure that the Elf was aware of his presence. "What is wrong? Please speak to me, _ion nin_."

The endearment had come to him instinctively, and in his frantic concern for Elano, he had said it without thinking. But he kicked himself for it instantly, because this _had _to be about Elano's mother, and addressing Elano as 'my son' when something terrible had probably happened to her was the worst thing he could ever have done. Elano inhaled sharply, and blinked as if coming out of a trance. His eyes met Legolas's, and then his face crumplrd, and he unclasped his hands and pushed the letter they had been clutching at Legolas with shaking fingers. The latter reached for it with a deep sense of foreboding.

_To Elano Timani,_

_It is my deepest regret to inform you that on October 23d, 3027, your mother passed from this world and into Mandos' walls. I realize that this day was not expected to come some years into the futur.It is my terrible duty to inform you that she did not fade, but died because of a careless error._

_Although I was not actually responsible for that error, I still consider myself partly responsible for it. The truth is that I wished to take a day off from caring for your mother, who has required constant attention from me every day, for many months. You had allowed me a day off every few months, provided that I find a qualified substitute to take care of your mother while I was gone. It had been many months since I had spent time with my family, and so I asked my friend Aaliyah, who is a trained and qualified healer, to take care of her for the day while I visited my husband and son. But Aaliyah has never been as careful or meticulous as she should be, and in a moment of distraction, your mother got away from her and tripped down the stairs and broke her leg in her inebriation. You, a fellow healer, know as well as I that Elves are not good at dealing with injury, however mild. Your mother was in a great deal of pain, and in her haste to relieve it, Aaliyah did not look at what she was doing. She mistook a vial of concentrated poppy juice for diluted poppy juice, and gave your mother an overdose which proved fatal._

_Needless to say, Aaliyah is completely guilt-stricken and overwrought over her carelessness, but the damage has been done. As we know that you cannot possibly reach here for the next ten days at least, I have arranged for the funeral tomorrow, that is, the 24th. Aaliyah and her husband, and I, are setting out for the palace immediately after. I wish to apologize for my part in this affair, for I cannot but feel responsible for my poor judgement in selecting a substitute. Aaliyah is willing to accept whatever punishment the King chooses to give her. She knows that there is no way she can atone for her mistake, but she wishes to try all the same._

_We should arrive soon after this letter. _

_I once again express my condolences for this terrible tragedy._

_Yours respectfully,_

_Terena Vallani._

For a few moments, Legolas could not speak. Everything he had feared for so many months had come to pass, and he was deeply affected. "Elano," He said when he finally found his voice, in a tone that conveyed the depth of his compassion for his Elven friend.

A dry sob wracked Elano's shoulders. "_Sir..._" He said imploringly, in a voice that begged for the comfort of a parent. Legolas's eyes stung as he realized that he was the closest thing Elano had to that, now. He was his only family.

The words that had felt so wrong didn't, anymore. "_Ion nin,_" He said in a choked voice. "I'm right here. I'm never going to leave you. I swear it."

Elano let out a harsh sob, and his tears finally began to fall. He wrapped his arms around himself and rocked back and forth, his eyes squeezed shut and his entire body wracked with powerful tremors. Furiously blinking back his own tears, Legolas drew the shuddering Elf into his arms and rocked him as though he was a small child, whispering to him soothingly. Elano continued to sob, and then began to mutter in broken, disjointed words.

_"Naneth...no...Miriel, Miriel; please..."_

"Hush, Elano, hush; I'm right here. I'm never going to leave you. I promise."

"She didn't leave me," The Elf replied, "It was Aaliyah-" And he could not finish, as rage swept through him, mingling with his grief. "I hate her- I could _kill_ her-" He half snarled, half sobbed; and Legolas rocked him faster, his arms tightening around him.

"Hush," He said again, "Hush."

"Sir?" A voice interrupted them. "What's going on?"

Legolas looked up and cringed inwardly. Of all the inopportune moments for Celin to decide to show up! And with Aragorn in toe, no less; which would, come to think of it, explain why he'd taken so long to get here- he'd probably made a detour to find the Man. "Celin, not now," He said repressively.

"But sir-"

"You heard sir, Celin," Aragorn interjected. He looked questioningly at Legolas, who shook his head imperceptibly. Aragorn nodded in unerstanding. "Come away," He said to Celin.

"But My Lord-!"

"Come _away,_ Celin."

The two withdrew in spite of Celin's continuing protests. Legolas turned his attention back to Elano. "Elano? We have to get you to your bedchamber; get you changed. You're soaked through already. You can't keep sitting here like this." He tried to rise, but Elano clutched at him in sudden fear.

"No- don't leave me-" He gasped, almost hyperventilating; and Legolas saw with alarm that his face, which had been flushed red from weeping a moment ago, had suddenly drained of all colour. He seemed to be going into shock. Legolas sat down hurriedly, and tightened his grip around him.

"I'm right here," He said comfortingly. "I'm not going to leave you."

Elano groaned softly and slumped against him, mortification mixing with his grief. "I'm sorry, sir," He whispered. "I didn't-" He broke off, closing his eyes, even as more tears spilled down his cheeks.

"Don't apologize, Elano," He said. "Now...are you up to making the trip to your room? You know you can't stay here all day."

Elano nodded without opening his eyes, but made no move to get up. Legolas gave him a few moments, and then gently disentangled himself fromhim. "Come on, Elano," He said, gently grasping his arm, "You have to get up."

Elano lurched to his feet with none of his usual grace. Fine tremors wracked his body, and he was blind because of his tears. Legolas had to wrap a supporting arm around his shoulders and guide him as they walked, a situation not made any easier by the fact that they were met along the way by a number of gawking students on their way to breakfast. Realizing that it would take entirely too long to walk all the way to Elano's room, he stopped and propelled him into his own bedchamber. Elano complied blindly, completely unaware of what was happening to him. Alanna looked up, startled, and then stared in alarm as she saw the state Elano was in. Her eyes jerked to Legolas's, asking a dozen questions, and he tried to answer them with his own eyes, infinitely grateful that she hadn't asked them aloud. A moment of silent understanding passed between them, and then, wordlessly, she got up and left the room.

Legolas helped Elano into some of his own clothes, and made him lie down on the bed, instinctively covering him up with blankets to try and make him feel warm and safe. The younger Elf continued to cry quietly for some time, but it wasn't long before he became spent, and slipped into a deep, exhausted sleep. Having spent enough nights by his side to be familiar with his sleeping patterns, Legolas knew he wouldn't stir for quite some time. He left the room, though he would far rather have stayed by Elano's side; but there were things that needed attending to first. He met Alanna on the way out, and wordlessly handed her the letter. He waited while she read it, and when she had, she handed it back to him with moist eyes, briefly pressed a hand to his shoulder in silent commiseration, and then walked back into the room, not even needing him to say aloud that he wanted her to stay with Elano while he was gone.

He then went to the dining hall where all the children were assembled, eating breakfast and chattering excitedly. He called for silence and announced quietly that school was shutting down for the rest of the week, because Elano had just received the news that Elano was no more. A stunned silence met this announcement, immediately followed by shocked cries and a buzz of concerned questions, and Celin leaping out of his seat and striding towards Legolas like a man on a mission. Legolas held up his hand and forestalled them all by asking them to maintain as much silence as possible for the next few days. He did not ask them to wear mourning colours, but he was fairly sure that some of them, the second year students especially, would do so anyway.

He left the room, followed closely by Celin, who began to ask questions immediately. "But sir, she was his last living family! His sister, his father, and now his mother too? It isn't fair!"

"I know Celin," Legolas said, sighing, because the thought had crossed his own mind countless times that morning, and would again. "I know."

"But what is he going to do now, sir? Where is he going to go?"

"I don't know, Celin," Legolas answered sombrely, "Things are too fresh for any of that to be certain as of now."

"Sir, is that why he's been so depressed all of this year? Was his mother fading all this time?" Legolas nodded. "But_ why?_" Celin asked.

"She was overwhelmed by grief after her husband's passing."

"But...why didn't he tell me that? I've been so worried about him all year! Or did he think I was too _young_ to understand?" The resentment in Celin's voice irritated Legolas a little, but he knew it wouldn't last long- it was part of Celin's nature to be feel first, and asks questions later.

"Perhaps he didn't want you to burden you with what he was going through," He said in a pointedly neutral tone.

Celin was a silent for a moment while he absorbed that. Then the questions began again. "But sir, if he knew she was going to die, why wasn't he with her?" He asked. "Wouldn't he have wanted to spend time with her in her last days?"

"Her condition was not expected to become critical for a few years yet, Celin," Legolas replied, knowing there was no point in keeping it a secret, as Celin would find out anyway- along with the better part of Greenwood. "He had employed a healer to care for her, and he needed to work in order to pay her wages." He did not mention the other reason Elano had needed to work- because it was the only means he had to quench his mother's interminable thirst for alcohol. Legolas would gladly have covered any and all expenses that Elano had, but the Elf was too proud to even have entertained the thought.

"You mean she did not pass away naturally?" Celin asked, horrified.

"No, she didn't. The healer Elano had hired wanted a day off to see her family, so she asked her friend, who is a qualified healer, to step in for her. But her friend was careless, and when Elano's mother hurt herself, she gave her an overdose of poppy juice without looking at what she was doing."

There was an outraged silence. Then; "She _what?!_" Celin exclaimed angrily, "But...how could she have been so careless!"

"I do not know, Celin," Legolas said grimly, "But rest assured, she will have to pay for her mistake. She and her husband are coming here tomorrow to here what judgement I pass on them." His voice hardened. "And they _will_ accept that judgement, or live to regret it deeply." All the same, even as he said the words, he couldn't help but pity the woman. One moment of neglect, of carelessness, and it had cost a life. For a healer, it would be even worse- her job was to give life and she had taken it away instead. He wondered briefly at the guilt and horror she would be feeling at that moment, and shuddered.

Celin, however, had no such qualms, "That's as it should be," He said vehemently. Then his face changed abruptly to concern for his friend. "Where is Elano? When can I see him?"

"He's asleep now," Legolas said, "When he wakes up, I'll ask you if he's up to seeing you. But until then, please don't pester anyone about it. We all have enough to worry about as it is. Alright, Celin?"

"Yes, sir."

He nodded, and then turned and hurried towards his bedchamber, intent on getting back to Elano. He stopped short when he entered, his chest constricting suddenly at the sight before him. Alanna was sitting on the bed, tenderly stroking Elano's hair gently as he slept. They made such a picture together- Elano looked so young, and Alanna so maternal in the glow of her pregnancy- that for a moment he was at a loss for words.

"How is he?" He asked when he'd recovered himself.

"He hasn't stirred at all since you left," She replied, "I don't know what he'll be like when he wakes up, though. And I can't even _imagine_ what he'll say when that..._ woman _arrives. Aaliyah."

Legolas shuddered slightly at the unwanted reminder. He wasn't looking forward to that either.

"He's really going to need you now, isn't he?" She asked. "He's really going to need us."

_We're all he has._

"Yes," He said sombrely, looking away, "I know."

---

"Celin, I wish you'd stop fussing ." Elano gave a faint smile, one that did not reach his eyes, it was true; but Legolas was still heartened to see it at all.

"How can I?" Celin exclaimed, "This whole situation- it's terrible!"

Elano's smile vanished, and he looked away, but not before Legolas caught the sheen of tears in his eyes. It had been like this since Elano had awoken that afternoon and asked Legolas if he had dreamt his mother's death. Legolas hadn't been able to reply, but the look on his face ensured that he didn't need to. After that, Elano had been alternating between monosyllables and tears.

Celin, in the meantime, looked as though he could have kicked himself. "I'm sorry," He said abruptly.

Elano looked at him, attempting to smile again, but it came out as a grimace. "Don't be. "

Legolas cleared his throat, seeing that Celin was becoming rather too much for Elano at the moment. "I think you should rest now, Elano," He said, "You're still exhausted. Celin-"

But at that moment, Calianna curtseyed her way into the room. "Your Majesty," She said, "There are three people who have just arrived who wish to see you and Elano."

Elano's face made clear the tumult of emotions raging inside him. His heart clenched for the younger Elf, as it was wont to do quite often since that morning. Celin, too, had fallen silent as he comprehended what was going on. "Is it-?" He began.

"Celin, stay here," Legolas interrupted, taking charge before the teenager could continue in this vein. "Calianna, please stay with him, and make sure he does not try to follow us." He added, at Celin's rebellious look. "Come on, Elano," He said in a more gentle tone as he turned to the Elf, who was sitting as still as a statue.

The Elf rose dazedly and hurried out of the room; Legolas losing no time in following. He kept a close watch on Elano as they neared the main parlour, where the three Elves had naturally been seated while they waited. When they stepped into the room, and he caught sight of the three visitors, he stopped short. _No, it can't be. The fates would never be so cruel._ But there was no deceiving his eyes, nor his memory for faces. This was going to break Elano, shatter him as nothing else ever had. For a moment, he considered the possibility of concealing the truth from him, but realized with despair that it was impossible.

As they approached the three, they rose and bowed and curtsied. Terena Vallani walked forward and took Elano's hands in her own. The two had come to know each other quite well through the countless letters they had exchanged over the past month. "I'm sorry," She said, in a voice that shook slightly with emotion.

Elano shook his head, his own eyes glistening slightly. "You have nothing to be sorry for," He said. "It was not your fault."

Aaliyah, standing beside her husband, shuddered. Her eyes were red with weeping and her face lined with exhaustion. Her husband placed a protective arm over her shoulders. The gesture drew Elano's notice. His eyes landed on Aaliyah, who quailed under the look he was giving her. He opened his mouth to speak, to rage at her- she cringed- the door burst open. Celin tumbled into the room, followed closely by Calianna.

"You wicked child! His Majesty ordered me not to-"

"Elano! Are you-?" Celin stopped abruptly. His eyes were fixed on the two people standing across from Elano._"Naneth?"_ He asked, disbelievingly. "_Ada?_ What in all of _arda_ are _you_ doing here?" Aaliyah gave an anguished sob, and buried her face in her husband's shoulder. Celin's face flooded with comprehension- and horror. "No, it can't be; _nana_, _please _tell me it isn't so."

Legolas's eyes flew to Elano's face and he watched with bated breath as he looked from Aaliyah, to Celin, to Aaliyah again. And then Elano's eyes dulled and all his anger seemed to diminish, giving way to a deep, resigned anguish.

"Elano-" Celin's voice was small, helpless.

Elano flinched at the voice of his once best friend, and then turned on his heel and strode out of the room.

Outside, the trees began to wail...a song of despair.

---

TBC...

I'm so sorry I haven't updated in so long. I've been extremely busy with college and a theatre work shop that just got over on Friday. Hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Toodles!


	27. Broken Hearts

Title: Until We Reach Valinor

Chapter 27: Broken Hearts

NOTE: This story is sequel to "A Teacher's Duty" and you'll have to read that one first to understand this. Also, this story does _not_ contain slash, and it is _not_ a romance, despite what the first chapter might suggest.

SPECIAL THANKS to Cassie for beta-reading this chapter, in spite of her health problems and pain. Really, thanks a tonne. And thanks to Kellen for helping me name Alanna.

---

Legolas looked from Celin's devastated expression, to Aaliyah's tear-streaked one, and felt utterly helpless. He didn't know what he could say, or even if it was his place to say anything- because this was Celin's nightmare, not his.

"Naneth, how could you?" The boy asked in asked in a heartbroken voice, his eyes glistening and full of pain. "How could you be so careless?"

Aaliyah's face filled with anguish. "I don't know," She said, beginning to sob, "I didn't mean to. I never meant to. And I never knew that she was your friend's mother, or I would have taken more care." Her expression suddenly changed to one of self-revulsion, and she hid her face in her husband's shoulder. "Oh Valar, what am I saying?" She said, sobbing harshly, "I should have taken more care regardless of who it was. I don't know what happened...I'll never forgive myself..."

Tathar immediately turned to comforting his wife. "Hush, darling," He said, and then very pointedly, with his eyes boring into Celin's face, he added, "It was an accident." Then he turned back to his wife, "You never _meant _for anything like this to happen."

Celin's face reflected his turmoil. He watched his mother silently, his face a mask of pain. He could not stand to hear her sobbing. He had always been close to his mother- for it was she that he had always turned to for comfort when his ankle made him depressed and hopeless about the future. He could not count the number of times that he had wept in her arms from sheer despair- and she had come to give him her comfort, and things had always seemed to be a little less bleak. And now it was she who was weeping- how could he turn his back on her? Her every sob was like a blow to him. And yet, her carelessness had resulted in a death, and worse still, the death of the mother of his best friend. He could not ignore that. He didn't think he could ever look up to his mother again. Nevertheless, he knew what he had to do. Because family always came first._ I'm so sorry, Elano; I know I'm betraying you by this, but I really don't have any choice._

Sighing softly, he went up to his mother, and gently put his hand on her shoulder. "Naneth. I don't blame you. I know it was an accident."

"An accident that should not have happened. Oh, Celin, I know that I've completely fallen in your eyes-"

"Hush, nana," Celin said gently, "I still love you. That hasn't changed because of all this. And it never will." His voice lowered, and he addressed both her and his father, "I know I've been a disappointment to you both all your lives because of my ankle. But you made every effort to conceal it from me, because you loved me without conditions. And that is true of me as well."

As Aaliyah, still sobbing, drew Celin into a tight embrace, and Tathar hovered over them both with a protective air and moist eyes, Legolas could not help but look away from the scene. He wished he was anywhere but where he was at that moment. He felt an overwhelming pity for the three people standing before him, and dreaded what was to come next. But he owed it to Elano and to himself to see this through and pass some sort of judgement on Aaliyah. After all, she had taken a life. He cleared his throat, and the three, sensing the sudden change in the atmosphere, looked at him in sudden fear.

"I sense that you are genuinely contrite, Aaliyah, daughter of Celin and Silmé," He said, and his voice took on an appropriately regal tone. "But you have taken a life, however unintentionally. Therefore, I have no choice but to strip you of your status of a healer, effective immediately. If you ever use the healing arts again, you will be exiled from all the Elven realms for all eternity."

It was a harsh punishment, for an Elf to be torn from his or her vocation for eternity; but it could have been, perhaps even should have been, far worse. The normal course would have been to demand monetary compensation for the victim in question; but Legolas knew it would be an insult to Elano to even entertain the idea. There was nothing further he could do.

"Thank you, Sire," Tathar said, the relief in his voice palpable as he bowed low, "We will abide by your sentence or pay the consequences."

"Indeed, Sire," Aaliyah said hoarsely, "'Tis not much punishment at all. I would not shame myself by practicing the healing arts after this, even should I have the chance to do so."Indeedshe thought, she would fear to make the same mistake too greatly.

"Very well," Legolas said, "And now, if you please, I must take my leave."

He had to go and find Elano. He was thinking with dread of the toll this would take on him- and what this would do to his hard won friendship with Celin. He hurried outside, and hastened quickly down the corridor, heading for Elano's bedchamber. He found Elano sitting with his back to the door to his bedroom, staring blankly at the wall opposite. The fact that he hadn't thought to open the door and enter his room worried Legolas greatly.

"Elano?" He said, tentatively. The Elf did not reply, but his eyes shifted to Legolas's, and the expression in them chilled him to the bone. They were completely empty.

He sat down beside Elano after a moment's hesitation, knowing that it was very unlikely that anyone would intrude upon them. Elano's bedchamber was in a fairly secluded part of the palace. Elano did not say anything. Legolas placed a hand on his arm.

"I'm sorry," He said softly.

"I know." Elano's tone was as expressionless as his eyes.

"Don't you want to hear the sentence I gave Aaliyah?" Legolas asked, with the thought that even anger from Elano would be better than this...emptiness.

No reaction at all, only a toneless, "Yes."

"I have forbidden her from using the healing arts ever again. If she ever does, she will be exiled."

Elano did not say anything for a long moment. Then, in the same tone, he said, "That was a fitting judgement."

Legolas was beginning to get seriously alarmed. "You do not think it was too lenient?" He asked.

At long last, the terrible pain of what had happened found reflection in Elano's eyes. "You had Celin to consider," He said unsteadily.

"I would never let anything come in the way of true justice," Legolas said quietly. "Not even Celin." He sighed. "I know you would rather I had given her a harsher punishment now, but that is only because your mother's death is still fresh. I know you, Elano. You will not even eat meat because of how you abhor violence and killing. You will not think it too lenient some years from now."

"I know that, sir," Elano said quietly, "I know I'm not very objective at the moment. You needn't fear. I am not...I _cannot_ find it in myself to blame you. I am not unaware of how hard this must be for you, as well."

"Don't worry about me," Legolas said, touched, "You have far too much to be concerned about as it is. What about...what do you want to do with your home?"

"I never want to enter it again," Elano said harshly, "I'll sell it."

"Elano..."

"No. I know what you would say, but I know my mind will not change with time. All that house can give me now is a constant reminder of everything that I've lost. That is all it has ever given me. Do not ask me to even enter it again, or-" He cut himself off abruptly.

"I won't, Elano," Legolas said soothingly, "I'll take care of everything. You need never enter that house again."

"Thank you."

They were silent for a time.

"And what of...the grave? Do you want to have a memorial of some sort, or-?"

"No," Elano's voice was rent with a sudden desperation, "Please, don't make me-"

"Hush. I will not. I will not make you do anything that you don't want to."

"Sir..." Elano's voice was hesitant, "I _do_ wish to visit my sister's grave. It's been...too long."

"Of course, Elano. Anything that you need."

"I want you to come with me. I can't...I can't face it by myself."

"Elano, I..."

"It isn't far from here," Elano interrupted him, "I know you can't leave ma'am in this state. Miriel's grave is...less than an hour from the palace, actually."

Legolas stared at him, shocked. "What?" He asked, "But I thought you lived on the outskirts of Greenwood!"

"We did. But my sister died not far from here. Our mother had brought us here to see our grandparents one last time before they sailed." His eyes grew distant, and the expression of stark longing in them made Legolas's heart clench in sympathy for the young Elf. "Miriel so loved it here." His voice broke. "She would often climb a tree which was some way away from our grandparents' house and gaze upon this palace for hours. She loved it even better than the main palace. She used to say that when she grew up, she would-" He let out a laugh that could have also been a sob- "- marry you and become the princess of Greenwood, and then she would own it. I used to laugh at her, but she was perfectly serious about it. When she died, we buried her under that tree. I...it was hard enough being in this place after so long. I was never able to bring myself to visit the grave."

Legolas could not believe that Elano had lived with this for so long and never said a word about it. "Why didn't you say anything to me about this?" He asked.

"Because I knew how much you worry about me. I didn't want you to be overly concerned. Besides, I have gotten used to this place. It is my home now." He smiled slightly, "My sister must be so jealous."

Legolas returned the smile. "I promise you that this will always be your home," He said, "And I will go with you to visit your sister whenever you wish to."

"Thank you, sir."

They were both silent for a time, as the one question that they had both tried to avoid loomed unvoiced between them.

"What about Celin?" Legolas asked finally, and Elano flinched, even though he had been expecting it.

"I...I do not know. He looks...he looks too much like his mother, sir. Every time I look upon his face, I'll see Aaliyah, now. It pains me to even think of him. He was the best friend I've ever had, but I can't... I'm sorry if I've disappointed you."

"Don't be ridiculous," Legolas said roughly, his heart clenching at this evidence of how much Elano valued his regard. "I don't expect you to be all-forgiving. I understand your sentiments- you needn't fear that I will question or pressure you. I think you, of all people, know me better than that."

"Yes, I do."

There was another pause as they both sat in a companionable silence. Elano impulsively leaned his head against Legolas's shoulder. He was completely worn with prolonged sorrow and despair.

"What am I going to do now, sir?" Elano whispered. "How am I going to survive this?" He looked utterly lost.

"I don't know Elano," Legolas said, knowing there was no answer he could possibly give to that question which would not ring falsely. He sighed heavily, and repeated, "I don't know."

---

Legolas entered his bedchamber silently. His face must have told Alanna that something was very wrong, because she took the trouble of heaving herself up from the bed and waddling up to him. "What happened?" She asked breathlessly, because even a slight exertion was enough to make her huff and puff these days.

"Aaliyah is none other than Celin's mother."

_"What?"_

Legolas just sighed and shook his head. "I know."

"Valar, that's completely..." Alanna shook her head in disbelief, "I can't even imagine what Elano's going through."

"And Celin," Legolas added.

"Yes. And Celin."

There was a brief silence. Then Legolas said, "I forbade Aaliyah from ever using the healing arts again, under threat of exile," Legolas said.

"That sounds very just and appropriate. What did Celin say?"

"I don't know. I didn't stay long enough to see his reaction."

"You should speak to him."

"I know. It's just..." He didn't bother to actually voice his fear, knowing that Alanna knew him well enough by now to understand.

"He'll understand, Legolas," The latter said, and the note of conviction in her voice surprised him.

"Do you really think so?" Legolas asked, "I just took away his mother's livelihood from him. He may not look at reasonably- he has a tendency for reacting first and then asking questions."

"I don't think you're giving him enough credit," Alanna said, "I've taught him, too, and I've seen him in all his glory having tiffs with his classmates and making fun of Doroth and his friends. But I've spoken to him outside of classes, about his insecurities about his ankle, and his fear of disappointing his parents, and disappointing you. He can sometimes display maturity when you least expect it."

"I hope you're right," Legolas sighed; "I suppose I should go to him."

"Yes; I think you should."

---

"Sir. You sent for me?" Celin's usually confident, self-assured manner was markedly absent. He sounded timid and afraid.

"Yes," Legolas said, "Please sit down."

Celin sat down tentatively. "Sir..." He hesitated, "I really...don't know what to say."

"That makes two of us," Legolas answered, with a sigh, "You...you know I cannot change the sentence I gave your mother."

"No," Celin said with more calmness then Legolas had expected, "No you can't. In any case...I think it was a just sentence. I don't wish to contest it."

"You...you don't?" Legolas could not conceal his surprise. This was indeed a display of more maturity than he had ever suspected Celin to have possessed.

"No, sir. I recognize the facts of the situation- I know exactly what her negligence cost. But you must understand that I cannot turn my back on my mother."

"Of course not. No one is asking you to."

"She needs me now. She's in a terrible state-well, you saw her. I need...I need to ask you to give me a period of leave from school. I want to return home with my parents; and stay there for awhile and see to my mother. My family needs time to recover from this."

Legolas studied him. There was something in his face that prompted him to ask, "Is it only your mother that prompts you to leave? Or is there something else as well?"

Celin grimaced. "It would probably be better for Elano if he doesn't have to see me for awhile," He admitted. "And...It would be less complicated for you, too."

"Oh, Celin," Legolas closed his eyes briefly, hating himself for being unable to deny the truth of either of those statements. "I am so sorry for all of this," He said, sighing heavily. "I hope you know that I'm very proud of you. You've dealt with this situation in a way that does you credit. You are one o f my best students, Celin, and-" his age-old difficulty with expressing his feelings kicked in at this point, and he fumbled for a moment "-I love you dearly."

"I know that. Thank you, sir. I love you, too." Celin rose to leave, and then paused, "Tell Elano that I'm sorry." For the first time, his stoicism wavered as his voice cracked on the words.

"I think he already knows, Celin."

Celin nodded once. "Goodbye, sir."

"Goodbye."

---

TBC...


	28. Glad You're Here

Title: Until We Reach Valinor

Chapter 28: Glad You're Here

DEDICATION: To Cassie, who I'm sorry to announce will no longer be able to be my beta-reader. Thank you so much for everything you've done for me so far. I'll never forget the improvements you brought to my writing.

---

A shadow of gloom had descended on the school. The children, robbed of Celin's exuberant leadership, were more subdued than Legolas had ever known them to be. Elano roamed the hallways day and night, haunting them like a pale ghost. He was gradually giving up hope, and little by little, life.

Legolas had entertained some hope that Elano would be able to find a little closure when he visited his sister's grave. But that had changed the day he accompanied the younger Elf to where his sister had been buried. He had watched from afar as Elano walked up to the headstone, stumbling slightly as he went because his vision was blurred with tears. Elano had stood for a moment, swaying a little as he read the encryption. Then his knees had given way, and he had pressed his face into the headstone, wrapped his arms around it as if it was a living thing, and wept. Legolas had been horrified at witnessing such terrible, profound grief, which even he, in his far longer life, and with everything that he'd been through, had never experienced. He hadn't even been able to comfort Elano, paralyzed in the face of such agony, and knowing nothing he could do or say at this point would do the slightest good. After that day, Elano had stopped coming to meals save once every few days, and even then, he would eat very little. Nothing anyone said made any difference. He was gradually fading away.

Worried as he was about Elano, however, Legolas had bigger things to occupy his time. Alanna was in the third week of her ninth month, and it was expected that her waters would break any day. Her spirits had worn out a little as her pregnancy advanced to its late stages. Already, there had been two instances of false labour, both of which had made her increasingly apprehensive about the birthing, because they had given her a taste of what the pain was going to be like. This, combined with the acute discomfort that always accompanied the last stages of a pregnancy, was enough to make her considerably less cheerful than usual.

Legolas, who was more used than he realized to Alanna's habitually sunny temper, was more affected than he would have liked by her flagging spirits, and he used every method he could conceive of to cheer her up. But his abilities were limited, because he, too, was apprehensive about becoming a father, and was sometimes gripped with moments of extreme self-doubt about his abilities as a parent. Between them, they made an anxious, edgy pair, and both were looking worse for the wear, obtaining faint dark circles; Alanna, because she could not sleep much thanks to the baby's continual kicking, Legolas, because _he_ couldn't sleep with Alanna tossing and turning next to him.

She suggested sleeping in a separate room once, dismayed when she realized she was keeping him up, but he immediately and vociferously shot down the idea, not at all liking the thought of leaving her alone in this stage of her pregnancy. Eventually, they ended up abandoning even the attempt to sleep, and stayed up talking softly together about nothing and everything; about books, and classes, and students, and the future, and the world, and each other. Legolas grew to cherish those times of the day above all others, especially when Alanna did chance to fall asleep sometimes, and he could watch the candlelight play in her hair, and light up the different hues he'd seen and loved on their wedding night, and had never stopped loving since .

"Have you thought about what you want to name the baby?" Alanna asked him once.

"Yes."

"And?"

Legolas hesitated. "I thought about it...but then I came to the conclusion that I should like to see the child first, before I can choose a name. I have a feeling that there'll be something about her that will tell me."

"Her? You still think it's going to be a girl?"

Legolas smiled, relaxing into the familiarity of the argument, which they had had more times than he could count. "I know it is," He said, with more conviction than he really felt in order to play along

She smiled knowingly instantly recognized what he was doing. "Just as I know it's going to be a boy, right?"

"Right."

"You know," She said after a pause, "I thought for a long time that you'd be disappointed if it was a boy."

The smile slipped slightly from Legolas's face. "Why?" He asked, troubled. _Surely you didn't think me that low?_

"Because if it is a girl, then we'll have to...you know...again." She blushed slightly, "You need an heir. I thought that all that awkwardness yet again...I thought you'd rather it be a boy to spare us that."

"It would be worth it," Legolas replied instantly, "_Completely_ worth it if it resulted in a child. I never thought I'd say something like this until three months ago. But when the baby kicked...I realized that anything, _any_ awkwardness, would be a price I'm willing to pay a hundred times over, if it meant becoming a father again."

A doubt entered his mind as he said the words, and he wondered; _are __**you**__ willing to pay that price?_ And he was reminded of the fact that she had another attachment awaiting her in Valinor, more dear to her than he could ever be. This companionship, this intimate friendship he'd found with her, could only last until they both sailed. While he had no romantic inclinations towards her, he still regretted that.

But Alanna banished away his momentary gloom by bringing back levity into the conversation, as was her wont. "A hundred times over, hm? Let's hope we don't have to try _that_ many times before we have a son- even _I_ don't like the idea of a hundred and one children."

"I should hope not," Legolas laughed. He smiled, shaking his head, "You're quite the comedian these days, aren't you? Perhaps you should reconsider your current occupation- court jester would suit you _so _much better than Queen!"

"That isn't saying much," Alanna retorted, "Since nearly any occupation would suit me better than be Queen!"

Legolas's smile faded a little. "You dislike it that much?"

"I'm just not regal enough, Legolas," Alanna said honestly, also growing serious, "I wasn't raised to be a royal, I don't have the appearance or the manners required to carry out this role..."

"If I've ever made you feel as if there's a standard you have to reach, or that you're inadequate-"

"It's not you," She interrupted before he could finish, shaking her head emphatically. "I promise you, it's got nothing to do with you. The fact is, there are a thousand other women who would have suited this office better."

_Perhaps, but there's not among those thousand who would have suited __**me**__ better._ But of course, he couldn't say that. And he couldn't deny the truth of what she was saying- she hadn't been brought up to be a royal anymore than _he_ had been brought up to be a peasant. "That's not true," He said half-heartedly, but she recognized the lie for what it was, and silence soon fell between them.

---

"Pilinel, it really isn't that difficult," Legolas said, exasperated at the stupidity his pupil was displaying, "You have to keep your eye on the target at all times and forget about the horse, and concentrate on the bow and arrow in your hands, and when you're just before the target, shoot."

"But sir, I can't forget about the horse!" Pilinel protested. "It is too restless."

Legolas's face grew stern. "You were supposed to practice riding the horse before today's class," He said, "You were supposed to becoming completely comfortable with it. I realize that they're not the gentlest beasts, but that was exactly the point, to get you used to less gentle beasts so that you're prepared for the eventuality of riding an animal you're not completely comfortable with, in case something should happen to yours. Did you not practice as you were supposed to?"

Pilinel responded by dropping his gaze and choosing to remain silent, which was all the answer that his teacher needed.

"Pilinel, how many times have I told you that this is your second year here, and-"

"Sir!" Elano burst into the clearing. Something had happened to clear his eyes of some of their usual dullness, Legolas noted, surprised, and somewhat alarmed. "Sir, its ma'am, her waters just broke-"

"_What?" _

But Legolas was gone before Elano could respond; his heart pounding as he rushed in the direction of the palace. He found Alanna in their bedchamber, being helped into a loose shift by the midwife in preparation for the delivery. Despite the situation, he blushed and averted his eyes until she was fully clothed; then he all but flew to her side.

"Are you alright? Does it hurt?"

"Of course it hurts," She said, "Or, well, it did, a moment ago, but the contractions have stopped for now." There were tears in her eyes as she clasped his hands in hers. "Oh, Legolas, I can't believe it's finally happening." Her face was a mixture of fear and anticipation, mirroring his exactly.

"I know," He said, dropping to his knees in front of her so he could look her straight in the eyes. "You're going to be alright, Alanna."

"Of course I am," She said, trying to rally, "I'm going to be a mother. It's what I've wanted for so long..."

"That's right," He said, squeezing her hands, "Just focus on that; you'll be fine."

Alanna was seized by a contraction, and cried out in pain, convulsively tightening her grasp on his hands. The next second, Legolas was unceremoniously shooed off by the midwife. He watched anxiously as she helped Alanna onto the bed, settling her against the pillows, and then she was abruptly cut off from his view as the maid-servants erected a large cloth screen curtain beside the bed, close enough to it that it was almost kneeling on it following the directions they'd been given by the midwife. Legolas paced anxiously, listening to Alanna in the throes of a contraction, which thankfully didn't last very long.

"You know," She said, sounding slightly out of breath, "This cloth suits my purposes to a tee. I can see you through it, but you can't see me."

Legolas dragged his chair and arranged it so that it was almost tearing into the cloth, wanting to be as close to his wife as possible, and suspecting that she wanted it, too. Sure enough, she rolled over and nestled against the chair, groping for his hand, and grasping it clumsily through the almost paper think cloth, which was, Legolas thought, like all Elvish creations, marvellously made.

"Alanna..."

"I'm so scared," She admitted in a whisper that could have been a breath.

"So am I," He breathed, squeezing her hand as tightly as she was squeezing his. "So am I."

"I'm glad you're here."

"I would not be anywhere else."

---

TBC...

Sorry it's shorter than usual, but it's better than nothing, right? I've been REALLY busy lately, and it's a miracle I even managed to do this much. I'm sorry to say that updates will be even less forthcoming than usual from now onwards, although I promise that I WILL eventually finish the fic. It's just that I'm so busy, lately. Gotta go now, I have to prepare for a seminar. Please review!


	29. Promises

Title: Until We Reach Valinor

Chapter 29: Promises

His hand had gone numb hours ago because of hard she was clutching it, but he hadn't said a word, had barely even registered it. He had never had to witness something so harrowing and painful in his life. The amount of pain she was in had shaken him badly. He wondered how women could stand to give birth.

"Legolas," She gasped harshly, her hold on his hand lessening slightly as her latest contraction subsided.

"I'm right here," He whispered, trying to sound reassuring.

It didn't work. "Y-you can go if you want to," She said anxiously, "If this is bothering you-"

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm not the one who's giving birth to the child."

She chuckled tiredly. "That's true."

"I'm not going anywhere," He said, knowing that she still needed to hear it.

She didn't say anything, but her hand tightened around his in silent gratitude.

---

His hand was throbbing; pulsing with pain, but he didn't say a word. He would willingly have suffered far worse for far less, when it came to her.

"It hurts- it hurts so much," She moaned.

"There, there, Your Highness," Came the midwife, Arielle's, voice, "Just breathe through it."

"Can't something be done for her?" Legolas asked the midwife, desperately.

"I'm sorry, Your Highness. This is something herbs cannot fix." To his amazement, she sounded amused. "You should be glad that she isn't threatening to kill you by now- I don't know any other woman who's lasted this long through a birthing without screaming bloody murder at her husband."

"Of course I...wouldn't do that," Alanna retorted weakly, her contraction having subsided.

"I wouldn't mind if you did," Legolas said.

"Perhaps not, but _I_ would mind."

"Come, Your Highness," said the midwife, "It is time for you to walk around a little."

"What?!" Alanna asked, horrified. "I can't get up!"

"Yes, you can." Calianna's voice this time, sounding infinitely firmer. Legolas was glad of her matronly presence. She was the only other person besides the midwife and himself who Alanna had allowed to be present during the birthing- she had hated the idea of her pain being witnessed by any more than strictly necessary. "You must, because I say so," Calianna continued. "Now, up!"

He heard Alanna groan in pain, her hand pulling out of his grasp. "Is this entirely necessary?" He asked.

"I'm afraid so, Your Majesty. If she walks, the pull of the earth will hasten the babe's arrival. The pain will only be more drawn out if she does not do this."

"So instead I should invite the pain by hastening along the worst part," Alanna said, and her voice would have been dry if it hadn't been so strained and breathy. "Just wonderful.

Legolas smiled in spite of himself, forgetting that she could see him quite clearly through the curtain. "Don't you smirk at me Legolas Greenleaf!" She exclaimed, "Or I might just reconsider on my resolve not to threaten you."

"I think you_ did_ just threaten me," Legolas pointed out.

"That doesn't count..."

---

"If you don't get out of me soon I swear I will KILL YOU!" Alanna screamed, in the throes of one of her worst contractions yet.

"Alanna!" Legolas protested. "Did you just threaten to kill our baby?"

"You... be...quiet," She panted, "It's your fault...that I'm in this situation in the first place."

"Oh, I'm quite sure you had a part in it as well!" He exclaimed, trying to lighten the mood, but the effect was ruined by the concern lacing voice.

"Hush, Alanna," Calianna said, soothingly. "They are getting more and more frequent. It should be soon, now."

"That's not...very comforting."

"I don't think it's supposed to be," Legolas whispered so that only Alanna could hear her, but she was in too much pain to laugh.

"Legolas...I don't think I can get through this." She was crying softly.

"Of course you can," He said, gripping her hand tightly. "Of course you will."

---

"I see the head! We're almost here..."

Legolas's heart leapt into his throat.

Alanna screamed.

"Push!"

"I...can't!"

With a supreme effort of will, Legolas kept his voice low, and soothing. "Yes, you can. You've been waiting for this moment all your life." Alanna screamed again, and he grimaced slightly as she gripped his hand tighter than ever. "Think of holding this babe in your arms. It's only moments away..."

She screamed again, this time so loudly that it was as though her body was torn inside out. There was a ripping, squelching sound, and then moments later, the cries of a newborn babe filled the air. Her hold on his hand relaxed.

"It's over, Your Majesty," The midwife's voice came, soothing Alanna, who was sobbing with exhaustion. "I believe that congratulations are in order."

"Legolas..." He understood immediately what she wanted.

"I'm coming."

But still, he lingered. In a moment, he would finally see the child they had both awaited for so long. He would be given a role that would eclipse all the other roles he had played in his life- he would become a father. Apprehension and anticipation battled for a moment. He rose and slowly drew aside the curtain. Alanna was lying back, exhausted, but happy. Her face was wet with sweat and tears. Calianna, who was fussing over her, moved aside at his approach, leaving his view of her unobstructed. He looked down at her, and saw, in her arms, a baby, swaddled in white-_ his_ baby. Tears gathered in his eyes; the joy so strong that it felt like sorrow.

"You were right," She said softly. "It's a girl."

"I..." He shook his head, tears spilling down his cheeks, unable to speak. "She's...

"Absolutely perfect."

"Yes," He said, choking, "She is."

And then Alanna's face contorted with pain, her body arched, and she cried out. "Oh...Valar..." Her eyes were full of fear, confusion and pain.

"What's going on?" He asked in fear, leaping to his feet. "Arielle?"

Arielle didn't respond, merely scooped the baby from Alanna's arms, and thrust her into Legolas's. "You need to lie down again, Your Majesty." She told Alanna, commandingly.

The baby was wailing lustily, and Legolas felt panic bubble up within him; he had no idea how to console her. He wasn't even sure that he was holding her properly. He bounced awkwardly, trying to rock her, but she only screamed louder than ever.

Alanna cried out, her body wracked with pain. "What's…happening?" She said, gasping.

Calianna soothed her, "Everything will be alright." She looked at Legolas. "You must leave. The child..."

Legolas paled. _No..._

"No," Alanna echoed him, "Legolas…"

Legolas looked from her to his daughter, torn.

"Leave, your Majesty!" Calianna commanded him, and as the baby looked on the verge of screaming herself blue, he knew he had no choice.

"Don't worry," He whispered to Alanna soothingly, "I'll take care of her. I promise."

_Please be alright, I need you by my side; I need you there to care for her also... _

He stumbled outside half-blindly, and the heavy wooden doors to the bedroom slammed shut behind him, drowning out the sounds of Alanna's cries.

"Fetch Lord Aragorn at once," He said to the maid standing outside.

She nodded, looking alarmed, but hesitated a moment before speeding away. "Your Majesty...perhaps it might be better if you adjusted your arms a little, so that you are supporting the child's head."

"Thank you," Legolas said fervently, adjusting his arms to do as she said. "Now, go."

The maid sped away, leaving him alone with his daughter and her cries. "There, there," He said, softly, trying to soothe her. "Hush." She only screamed louder.

Legolas forced down his panic. What could he do to calm her? He wondered frantically. He was a terrible father if he could not even calm his child...He hadn't even known how to _hold _her. And then a memory came to him all of a sudden, of Alanna singing a lullaby, when she thought no one was looking, and him concealed behind a shelf in a library or a door, or a clump of trees, not wanting to intrude until the song was finished. Wondering if _his_ mother had ever sang like that to him, or looked at her belly with so much love in the days of her pregnancy. He opened his mouth, and almost without realizing what he was doing, he was singing that same lullaby...To his relief, she calmed, her wails subsiding into soft hiccups. He rocked her gently, but his heart did not cease to race.

He shook the thought off. A happy, healthy She-Elf did not die in childbirth. _But then why were there complications? What went wrong? Perhaps she was really unhappy, like my mother, and hers, perhaps she's been fading away all this time, grieving for Rilian, perhaps I missed something, somewhere, somehow... _

The lullaby drew to a close, and he went back to the beginning, mechanically. "_Hush, dear child; and let the kiss of spring lull you into slumber and sweeten your dreams..." _

He looked down at his daughter, and all of a sudden, dread assaulted him. He couldn't do this alone. He needed Alanna. Needed her to make sure their daughter grew up to be cheerful, uninhibited, to teach her how to laugh, and how not to be always regal, because he knew it was something he could never teach her himself, no matter how much he wanted to or how hard he tried, because it was something he had never learnt. The minutes passed like hours, and he sang the lullaby, again, and again, and again, it might have been three times, or it might have been a hundred; he would not have known. It could not have been very long, though, not more than ten minutes; or Aragorn would already have been here. He was probably minutes away, and he would be able to help Alanna with his healing hands...

He didn't hear the oak doors open behind him; they were of Elven make and did not make much noise even when slammed shut or yanked open. The sound of his voice was enough to drown out the faint sound it made. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and he stopped singing and turned, startled. The midwife was standing there. There was a smile on her face and her eyes were twinkling slightly.

"Congratulations, Your Highness," She said, smiling, "Your wife awaits you."

He moved across the hallway as if in a dream, his mind unable to comprehend what she meant. Did this mean that Alanna was alright? He entered the bedchamber...and stopped short.

"Legolas..." Alanna's voice was hoarse with screaming, she looked more exhausted than some of the soldiers he seen after the War of the Ring, but she was smiling luminously. "I couldn't believe it either. _Twins._" She shook her head. "Arielle did not seem very surprised, to tell you the truth. She said she had suspected it from the fifth month, because of how brightly I was glowing, but she didn't say anything because she wasn't sure. This is the first time she's ever delivered twins- you know they're so rare." She smiled down at the babe in her arms. "He's beautiful, isn't he? He," She said smiling, "It looks as though we were both right."

When he didn't respond immediately, she looked at him closely, her eyes filling with concern when she saw the traces of tears on his face. "What's wrong?"

Legolas looked away, unable to speak, because the relief was so profound. He never wanted to be so scared or so helpless ever again. And although he told himself that most of the fear had been for his daughter, deep inside his heart he knew that some of it had been for himself...more of it than he liked to admit.

_"Legolas?" _

"I..." He shook his head. "I thought..."

The door burst open, and Aragorn sprinted in, panting for breath. "What happened? Alanna, are you alright?" When she just looked at him confusedly, he turned to Legolas, "Is she alright?"

"She's...she's fine," Legolas said, pulling himself together with visible effort. "There was a misunderstanding. I thought something had gone wrong, but it turns out that she only went into labour a second time." He rose and moved aside so Aragorn could see the other baby for himself.

"You thought that I was-?" Alanna began, shock visible on her face, but Legolas cut her off.

"It's alright. _You're_ alright. That's what's important."

But the look in his eyes told her that _he_ wasn't alright. Something like this should not be affecting him so much...unless..."Legolas, you didn't...you didn't think I was _dying?_"

Legolas said nothing in reply, but his breath caught, his shoulders tensed imperceptibly, and it was answer enough.

Alanna inhaled sharply. "Legolas..." She whispered, stricken.

"Oh...Your Majesty, I did not realize...I would have said something..." Arielle stammered, horrified.

He gave her a weak smile, feeling suddenly uncomfortable, cursing himself for being unable to pull himself together despite his best efforts. "It's alright. You were too occupied Alanna, and that was as it should be."

"Indeed. Congratulations, mellonamin," Aragorn cut in, before anyone could say anything more, knowing that the last thing Legolas wanted was for this to be dwelt on. "They are beautiful children. Are they boys or girls?"

"A boy and a girl," Legolas replied, but he was still so obviously overwrought that Alanna could not but eye him in troubled concern.

Aragorn cleared his throat, knowing intuitively that the two needed to be left alone. "Well, you must be exhausted, Alanna. I think perhaps it is time for us to leave. You need your rest, as do your children, who look ready to droop at any moment. I think the crib is large enough to hold two?" He asked, truing to Calianna.

"Yes," She replied, "I have made all the arrangements. I will be waiting outside tonight, Alanna, in case you need any help when the children require feeding."

"Thank you, Calianna. And you, Arielle."

"It was our pleasure, Your Majesty. Your children are among the finest I have ever delivered, truly."

"Thank you."

"Well, goodnight, to the both of you," Aragorn said, "And congratulations, once again."

The door shut, and they were alone. Alanna looked at Legolas, who was studying the bed-sheet as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. She hesitated for a moment, and then took his hand. "Legolas. Look at me."

Legolas looked up. There was a pained look in his eyes, but it was mingled now with embarrassment. "I'm sorry. I know I'm over-reacting-"

"No, you're not. I thought I was dying too, until Arielle told me otherwise. For a moment, I was so terrified; I thought, 'I will never forgive myself if I leave my daughter motherless.' It's my worst fear. I, of all people, can understand."

"But it wasn't just that," Legolas admitted after a moment's hesitation. He wanted her, needed her, to _really_ understand. "I was so scared that I would have to raise her alone. I _cannot_ do this alone."_ Not without you. I don't want her to end up like me. I don't want myself to end up like my father. That's **my **worst fear._

"You won't have to," She said, fervently, "I'm right here. I'm alright."

"And thank the Valar for that," He whispered, so fervently that she was touched, realizing, as he had, that not all of his fear had been for their daughter.

"I'll never leave," She said softly, earnestly, her brown eyes were full of compassion and understanding and. You'll never have to do this alone. I will _always_ be here. I swear it."

He looked at her, startled by the familiarity of her words. And he remembered something that he had been trying to live by since he had married her, and had promised her to live by in so many words.

_"I will always catch you when you fall. I swear it."_

He knew that she remembered too. Knew that that was why she had chosen those words. His eyes met hers unwaveringly, and he felt the fear fall away.

_Always. _

Until eternity fades.

_I swear it._

TBC...

Hey, people! Sorry I haven't updated in so long, my exams have been going on. (They thankfully got over yesterday). Now I'm free for awhile...my next round of exams is in April. How did you like my twist with the twins!!!! I've been planning that right from the start of the story; I can't tell you how good it is to get here. I know Legolas was a little bit more emotional in this chapter, and I hope it didn't come across as out-of-character. I just figured that having been so shaken and tensed by the amount of pain she was in, and then on top of that to think she was dying, would have been enough to crack even HIS usually infallible mask. I'm also sure that he would be worried about his daughter going through what he did, history repeating itself, and all- I think she would be too (after all, she was an orphan all her life, in case you've forgotten.) And about portraying Legolas as the one needing reassurance in this scene, I just wanted to show that they both had their different insecurities. It can't always be him reassuring Alanna- I wanted Alanna to have a chance to return the favour for once.

A warning: After the next couple of chapters, which will probably be fluffy and nice, this story's going to get a bit dark and depressing, and many of you aren't going to like me for what I have planned. But I've had it planned since forever, and I think its how the story needs to end.

But don't worry; there is the last piece in this series to look forward to, a kind of winding up, tying up of loose ends kind of story. So chin up, people.


	30. Happiness

Title: Until We Reach Valinor

Chapter 30: Happiness

...

"Elano? What are you doing here?

"Sir!" Elano started and turned. "I came to congratulate you. How is ma'am?"

Legolas studied him, touched by the sentiment. It was the first time since his mother's death that he'd been able to care about anything outside his own anguish and misery. "She is exhausted," He answered, "The birthing was difficult, and their crying kept us both up for most of the night. She just fell asleep a few hours ago- I thought I should let her sleep."

"_Their_ crying?" Elano asked, brows furrowing.

"Elano..." Legolas hesitated, wondering how the younger Elf would take this, "She had twins."

Elano froze for a moment, and then turned abruptly away. "Twins," He repeated thickly.

Legolas closed his eyes for a moment. "A girl and a boy," He said, quietly. "The girl is the elder."

Elano choked slightly. Miriel had been the elder, also. "That's...that's wonderful," He said in strangled tones, "Congratulations."

"Elano..."

"I'm sorry, sir. I am happy for you, truly, it's just-" He broke off, swallowed hard. "_Twins._"

"Don't be sorry, Elano." He took a step forward. "I know that I haven't been there for you lately-"

"Don't be ridiculous, sir," Elano interrupted, turning back towards him and Legolas was suddenly hit by how much weight he had lost, how dead his eyes looked. "Ma'am was with child," Elano said softly, but firmly, "It is right that she was your biggest concern over the last few months. Don't apologize for something like that. And in any case," His voice dropped slightly, and he averted his eyes. "I don't think even you can prevent what is happening to me."

Legolas froze. _No..._ He had known, of course, but he had tried to deny it. "Elano..." He began, a lump rising in his throat.

"Don't, sir. I am a Healer, and I can recognize the symptoms in myself. I'm becoming more and more caught up in my anguish, less and less aware of everything that's going on around me, and most of the time, I do not even care." He let out a hollow laugh. "When ma'am went into confinement yesterday, I was surprised. I had no idea that so much time has passed. I know that I am fading, and I can't stop it. I don't want to." He swallowed hard, "And I doubt there would have been much you could have done even if you hadn't been so focussed on ma'am. I love you, sir, but I've lost too much." He shook his head. "I wish I did not have to dampen your happiness on this most joyful of days, but I have to say some things to you while I am still aware of what is happening around me. I want to thank you for everything you've given me over the last two years. Without you, I-"

"Hush. Don't be ridiculous. You don't need to..."

Elano looked at him steadily. "Yes, I do. I don't have long, sir. A few months."

Legolas shook his head in horrified denial. "Elano, _no._ Aragorn can-"

"Lord Aragorn knows," Elano interrupted. "I told him not to tell you- you already had enough to worry about. But he can't do anything for me either. He tried, sir, but I...I've just lost the will. I wish I had the strength to stay, for your sake, but I don't."

He looked so guilty and forlorn that Legolas stepped forward and encased him in a fierce embrace. "I'm going to find a way," He said shakily, "I don't care what I have to do, but I will."

"Sir, please don't give yourself false hope," Elano said, his voice growing distant, and Legolas hugged him tighter, feeling as if he was losing him even as they spoke.

...

"You look rested."

"And you look upset," Alanna responded, scanning his face. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Legolas."

"You have been greatly strained by your confinement; I don't want to burden you with-"

"If you don't tell me what's wrong, then I'll be _burdened_ by worrying about it anyway."

There was really nothing he could say to argue with that "It's Elano," He sighed, sinking down beside her, "He came to me this morning and he's fading, Alanna. He's _actually_ fading. He said..." Legolas swallowed. "He said he didn't have more than a few months left."

"Oh." She reached for his hand, her eyes filling with tears. "Oh, Valar. Legolas, I'm so..."

"No." He pulled his hand from her grasp and ran it through his hair, cursing himself when he felt it shake, because he knew she wouldn't miss that. She was frighteningly perceptive when she wanted to be. "Don't look like that- don't give up hope on him. I'm going to find a way to help him. I _have_ to."

"Legolas," She reached out and grasped his hand again, this time more firmly. "He has nothing left to hold on to here. He loves you but he lost his entire family. I don't like seeing you deny reality like this. It'll only hurt you worse in the end."

"I don't care about myself," He said.

"Yes, I know," She said, "That's exactly what scares me, Legolas. He has nothing left here to stay for. You of all people know how much he has been through, how much he has lost."

"I am not giving up on him."

She shook her head. "I don't want to, either, Legolas. But I'm not as close to him as you are, and I have to face facts. He has nothing left to hold on to."

"I'll find a way. I have to."

"I admire you for trying, Legolas," She said softly, her eyes sad, "But you have to remember how much he loves you, even if it isn't enough to keep him from fading. He's only here because he doesn't want to disappoint you- or he would have sailed the day his mother died."

He pulled his hand from hers again, feeling as though she had slapped him. "What...what exactly are you saying?"

There was a wealth of pain in her eyes, and the hurt inflicted by her statement drained away suddenly when he realized how much she hated hurting him like this. "I don't mean to say that you shouldn't try, Legolas," She said, voice trembling slightly, looking away to hide her tears. "He's so young. He deserves to experience this world be. But you _have_ to know when to stop trying, also. If you love him as unselfishly as you say you do, you can't keep him here, in such pain and misery, for _your_ sake." She looked back at him, and her cheeks were stained with tears, but her eyes were clear and emphatic. "You have to promise yourself that you'll acknowledge reality if the time comes when _trying_ begins to do more good than harm. Because I know you, and if you look back later and realize that you acted selfishly, you'll never be able to forgive yourself."

Legolas just looked at her, his throat so tight that for a long moment, he couldn't trust himself to say anything. Then he gently took her hand in both of his. "You're right, of course." He said, and she sighed, the tension leaving her shoulders. The intensity of the relief on her face filled him with consternation and dismay. "Don't...Alanna, don't look at me like that. You weren't trying to hurt me. I know I should have seen that at once, but..." He shook his head. "I _need _you to keep telling me the things I need to hear, even if I don't want to hear them. I've grown to depend on you for that, because for someone who's a complete romantic, you can face reality more unflinchingly than anyone else I know."

She shook her head, brushing away her tears. "I'm not as romantic as I make myself out to be Legolas. I love romantic poetry and fantasy stories because through them, I can live the happy endings that never come in real life. The life I've lived, it's always been a bit of a fairy-tale. Locked up in a palace all my life, waiting for my handsome prince to come and rescue him. But the man who came along and rescued me from my isolation was _not_ a prince, though I didn't love him any the less for it. He was so...so perfect, and we were so happy together, but he died before I could get my happy ending. And then when my prince finally did come along, it was to offer me a marriage of convenience," She added with a smile, nudging him lightly, but when he failed to smile back, she looked at him more closely. "What's wrong?"

"You think that there _are_ no happy endings?" The thought that Alanna had such a bleak view of life in actuality troubled him greatly, because Alanna was supposed to be the romantic, and he was supposed to be the cynic, and that was the dynamic on which their relationship had always functioned.

"Not here, Legolas," Alanna replied, "Even when things are perfect, there will always be something to spoil it. But I believe that there _is_ real, perfect happiness, waiting for all of us, in Valinor. I don't think you should give up on Elano, because this world still has its joys as well as its sorrows, and he's too young not to experience them. But Valinor _is_ our final resting place, and that's where we must look in the end for complete, unblemished happiness." Her eyes grew distant, and he knew that that was where _she_ had been looking ever since Rilian had died.

And that thought left him even more troubled than the idea that she believed deep down that there _were_ no happy endings, because he could see that she was pinning all her hopes of happiness on Valinor, and her belief that Rilian was her perfect match. But he had heard enough about Rilian to know that the Elf was not perfect, any more than the rest of them. And happiness could not be found in a place, it had to be found _within_ oneself. What would happen if, after centuries of waiting, Rilian and Valinor turned out to be less than she hoped? How would she ever be able to face that?

...

A few days later, an idea struck Legolas. It was desperate, and he knew he was clutching at straws, but he could not give up on Elano just yet, despite what Alanna had said. It just wasn't in his nature. "I've been thinking about what you were saying earlier about Elano, and how he has nothing left to hold on to here," He said, after they had managed to get the children to sleep.

Alanna looked up at him from across the cradle. "And?" She asked, her hand patting her son in a gentle, soothing rhythm even as she looked at Legolas. They had learned from experience that stopping the patting too soon after he had fallen asleep would only cause him to wake again. He was very restless, and only needed an excuse to awaken.

"How would you feel about naming our daughter Miriel?" He said in a rush.

She stilled for a moment, and then straightened up slowly. "That's Elano's sister's name, isn't it?" She asked. "Are you sure that's wise? Elano might-"

"No. He needs something to hold on to- and I'm giving him that. His reaction when I told him that we had twins..." He shook his head. "If he can become attached to our daughter, if he can see his sister in her, then perhaps it will be enough to keep him here."

"That will involve something of a sacrifice, you know," She said carefully. "If the whole thing is successful, then we'll have to acknowledge that she is _his_, in some substantial measure, as well as ours. We have to be willing to let that happen."

"Elano is a good, kind person, Alanna. Our daughter could only be blessed by his presence if they really become close to each other. I'm more than willing to sacrifice some of our time with her to him. We'll still _be_ her parents. We're not sacrificing that. You understand that, don't you?"

"Yes, of course. I just wanted to make sure that you had thought it through properly."

"I want him to be jolted out of the stupor he's fallen into. I know this could go the other way, and could end up depressing him and causing him to fade faster. But I'm desperate enough to make that gamble."

"Well, 'Miriel'_ is_ a lovely name." She smiled down at her daughter. "It suits her, for her eyes sparkle like jewels."

"I thought so, too." He would never have named his daughter something that didn't suit her. Names were an important part of an Elf's identity, for they lived forever, and thus an unsuitable name was an eternal blight or curse. "Have you thought of a name for our son?" He asked.

She shook her head. "It's been difficult," She said. "I want to name him after someone who has been a significant influence on my life, and, well, there are only two things I can possibly name him in that case, and neither of them are exactly suitable."

"_Two_ people?"

"Rilian, and you, of course. Rilian is completely out of the question, obviously. And I don't suppose you'd like the baby to be named 'Calenlass', after you?"

"Absolutely not," Legolas answered, a little stunned that she was even considering it, "The King naming the Crown Prince after himself would _not_ go down well with Greenwood. It's such an unspeakably arrogant gesture."

"Well, I certainly can't name him after Rilian. Can you imagine what Aradhel would say to that?"

"Aradhel? _That's_ who you're worried about?"

"I didn't tell any of my other suitors the name of my past love," She said, shrugging. "No one else would make the connection if I named him 'Rilian.'"

Legolas shook his head. "Aradhel has lost all his credibility," He said, "He no longer has any power, and the only thing he has left is wealth, which is worth little without all his old followers and hangers-on. No one takes him seriously anymore. You don't need to be worried about Aradhel's reaction if we name our son after Rilian. If you're sure you haven't told any of the others his name, because as I recall, you told _me._"

"I told you because I wanted your father to know the truth, and I thought if you told him, he'd be able to select someone for me who would agree to my terms of marriage. I was getting tired of seeing suitor after suitor and facing their wrath. I never told anyone besides you- the only reason I told Aradhel was because he struck me and demanded to know the name, and I was so stunned that I actually responded."

Legolas ruthlessly suppressed his anger at this, reminding himself that Aradhel was powerless now, and could not touch either himself or Alanna. "In that case, I don't mind naming our son 'Rilian,'" He said. It would take some getting used to, for until now, 'Rilian' had been Alanna's lover, and he had grown used to thinking of him as such. But if Alanna could get used to the change, then so could he.

"You truly don't mind? You don't think it's a little awkward, naming your son after your wife's past love?"

"He's our son. And Rilian shaped the person you are today, so I can see that its fitting. Besides, it's a nice name; very regal, very fitting for the Crown Prince."

"Thank you," Alanna said softly, "So much."

He moved to stand beside her and looked down on their sleeping children. "Rilian and Miriel," He said softly, speaking the names aloud, seeing how they felt on his tongue.

"They sound right."

"Yes," Legolas said, "They do."

They stood like that for a long time, motionless, drinking in the feeling of being part of a _family_, for the first time in their lives.

...

TBC...

I'm so sorry for the long gaps between the updates, people! Thank you for being so patient with me. Now that college is over and I'm home for the next two and a half months, I have enough time on my hands and will update much more frequently. I hope you all liked this chapter. Please review! I can't have lost ALL of my reviewers during this four month gap!


	31. Legolas, Elano and Celin

Title: Until We Reach Valinor

Chapter 31: Legolas, Elano, and Celin

…

"Elano?" It was the third time he had called the Elf's name without eliciting any response from him. Elano was fading fast, and for a moment, Legolas wondered if there was any way this could actually work. Then he rallied, and banished the thought from his mind. "Elano!"

Finally, _finally_ the Elf looked up. "Sir?" he said, sounding dazed and only half present.

"I brought you my daughter, Elano," Legolas said

Elano stared vacantly at him without answering or giving any indication that he had heard. "Do you want to know what Alanna and I have decided called her?"

"Yes?" Elano said absently, after a prolonged blank stare.

"We have named her Miriel," Legolas said, steeling himself, "Don't you think it suits her?"

Elano let out a choked sound, his eyes now focussed on Legolas, wild and grief-stricken.

"Don't you think it suits her?" Legolas repeated, fighting off a wave of guilt and self-doubt. If this didn't save Elano, it would kill him. But if Legolas did nothing, Elano would die anyway.

"I- sir-" Elano gasped, tears streaking down his face.

Legolas pretended not to see them. "Would you like to hold her?"

Elano backed away, his face ashen. "Why are you doing this?" he whispered brokenly, and Legolas fought the urge to take to his heels and _run,_ because inflicting such pain on his friend was the hardest thing he had ever had to do.

"I don't know what you mean," he said, feigning distractedness. "Here, hold her for a moment, will you? I just remembered- I have to see Alanna about something."

He thrust his daughter into Elano's arms, and forced himself to walk away. The moment he had rounded the next corner, he leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, breathing harshly as the full impact of what he had just done hit him. Valar. If Elano didn't come through this, he didn't know if he would ever be able to forgive himself for putting him through this.

Elano needed to be shocked out of his current state, he reminded himself. He needed to express emotion again- he needed to grieve, and cry. The thought was almost surreal to Legolas, who knew exactly how many times and how inconsolably Elano had wept for his mother over the past year. Not so long ago, he had prayed against all reason for Elano's tears to abate, for him to find some relief, and now, he was hoping for the opposite. The irony was overwhelming.

The silence stretched, grating on his already frayed nerves. He was only able to hold himself back from going to see after his friend by sheer force of will. And then he heard it, the sound of muffled sobs, and his heart leapt into his throat. He wasn't even aware of his feet moving as he rounded the corner and almost flew to where Elano was sitting hunched on the floor, folded over himself, sobbing into his hands. Miriel was cradled in his arms, fast asleep, seemingly oblivious to the tremors wracking Elano's body and the harsh, choked gasps escaping his lips.

"She was fussing," the latter explained, still sobbing, "My distress was disturbing her, so I used some healing techniques to relax her into sleep. I didn't...I didn't want her to..." His sobs intensified and he curled over himself, shaking.

"Elano," Legolas said, crouching down beside him and pulling him into his arms. "Hush."

"She brought me back," Elano choked, his shoulders shaking so violently that Miriel shook in his arms, and yet he held her steady, with a care that lifted and broke Legolas's heart at the same time. "I couldn't just let her...I couldn't..." He swallowed hard, "It was _Miriel_, sir," he whispered in anguish, "It's Miriel."

"Hush," Legolas said again, hugging Elano even tighter. "Hush."

"Why?" Elano choked, "I was happy. I was _happy_..."

"You were _not_ happy, Elano," Legolas said emphatically, "You can hate me if you want to, but I won't let you lie to yourself. Refusing to let yourself feel pain and is _extremely _different from being happy. "

"Ma ybe," Elano responded, turning away slightly. "But it's the next best thing."

"Don't you dare say that," Legolas said, more fiercely than he had meant to, "Don't you _dare._ Not after-" He cut himself off abruptly, and closed his eyes for a moment, trying and failing to compose himself. "You can blame me all you want for what I did," he said shakily, "But you're far too young to die. You're...you're far too loved." Elano inhaled sharply, held it for a moment, and then let it out slowly. His body relaxed and he leaned his head against Legolas's shoulder, and Legolas closed his eyes in sheer relief at the love and the trust implied in the gesture. "I just wanted to give you something to live for," he said, very quietly.

For a long time, Elano, was silent. Then, "You did."

...

Sometimes, when Legolas witnessed the extent of Elano's grief, he wondered if his friend was getting better at all, if it was all just wishful thinking on his part. Then he would force himself to re-examine the growing evidence- Elano's returning appetite and health, his waning listlessness, and the happiness that would sometimes grace his face, very rarely, and only when he was with Miriel. That last would always convince him that in spite of his frequent nightmares, debilitating bouts of weeping, and occasional spells of despair, Elano was indeed getting better.

His bond with Miriel had surpassed Legolas's wildest hopes. Rather than the fear of getting close to someone again that Legolas had expected to see, Elano demolished every wall he had made to protect himself from loss. He had wholeheartedly given his affection to Miriel, and was so devoted to the child that Legolas sometimes feared that she would grow up to be quite spoilt. Elano treated the little girl as though she was actually his sister, restored to him; and she became as much his as she was Legolas's and Alanna's.

Even though Elano was getting better, he still needed much of Legolas's time, especially during the nights, to help him through his nightmares. Sometimes Legolas felt guilty for leaving Alanna alone to deal with the children's soiled napkins and plaintive crying. He even tried to apologize for it once, but was shot down by her at once.

"Don't be ridiculous, Legolas. Elano is important to you, and you nearly lost him. I can't reproach you for taking care of him."

"But I sometimes worry that I don't spend enough time with Rilian," he said, "I'm always with Elano and Miriel, or in class. You know how busy things have been with the graduation coming up. I just hope I'm not neglecting my son."

"When was the last time you held him and spent some time with him?" she asked, but without accusation.

"Yesterday," he said, "He was crying and needed to be burped, and after he had settled, we played with his favourite silver rattle."

"Yes, they really do love those rattles, don't they?" Alanna said, smiling down at her children affectionately. "Aragorn and Arwen chose the most wonderful gifts for them- no one could have wished for better. Silver rattles- 'royal' enough to be acceptable gifts, as well as suitable playthings for babies. The best gifts we received on their behalf, don't you think?"

"By far."

She smiled at him suddenly. "You know what his favourite toy is, and you think you don't spend enough time with Rilian?"

He stared at her for a moment, caught by surprise. And then a load fell away from his heart, and he smiled.

...

"Sir, can I speak with you?"

Legolas set down the piece of legislation he'd been studying, secretly happy for the break from his kingly duties. "Yes, Linnor, of course."

She fidgeted for a moment, looking worried and slightly tense. "Celin has returned."

"What?" Legolas asked, his voice sharp with surprise, "When?" With everything else that had been going on, he realized with a start; he had almost forgotten about Celin. "Where is he?" he asked.

"He says he actually reached here two hours ago, but waited at the back entrancing hopes that I would pass. He wanted to speak to you before his presence became known to everyone else."

The consideration surprised Legolas. It did not sound like the well-intentioned, but impetuous and impulsive Celin that Legolas had grown to know and love. "I'll come at once," he said, rising, "Thank you, Linnor."

It was an invitation for her to go, but she hesitated.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Sir, will you let him return to the school?" she asked in a rush, colouring at his look of surprise at the question.

"Why would I not?"

She was silent.

His brow furrowed in confusion; and then suddenly, it hit him. "Linnor," he said, aghast, "Do you think he left because I forbade him to continue at the school? Does…does _everyone_ think that?"

She looked down. "His family is in disgrace. You would in your rights to-"

"No," he interrupted, "You've misunderstood. Of course I wouldn't forbid Celin from attending here for something his mother did! He _chose_ to leave. He wanted to spend time with his parents after what happened. I'll admit that I didn't try very hard to stop him because my main concern was for Elano at the time, but I _never_ asked him to leave."

She looked relieved. "That's wonderful, sir. I'm so sorry I doubted you. I hope he returns for good- I've missedhim." She turned to go, but he stopped her.

"Linnor," he said tightly, his shoulders tense, "Will you be frank with me?"

"Of course, sir," she said.

"How will Celin be received by the others if he returns now?" He wondered for a moment if it was quite right for him to be asking this of one of Celin's classmates, but Linnor was perceptive, and wouldn't gossip.

And he needed to know. He should already have known, but of late his time had been completely divided between Elano, Alanna and his newborn children, and, ashamed though he was to admit, he had lost track of what was happening with his students.

Linnor seemed at a loss for words. "Sir, you must understand," she said falteringly, "Elano is very well loved- by everyone. The way his mother died- everyone hates Celin's mother for it. His entire family has been tainted by association. I'm afraid that he will no longer be as popular as he once was. People might even..." She trailed off as she lost her nerve.

"Go on," Legolas prompted her.

"People might even resent you for allowing him to return, sir," she said.

_Especially since they have all thought till now that I hold him in contempt._

"Thank you, Linnor," he sighed, "I will go and see Celin at once."

Things had only _just_ started to settle down. Why could he never seem to catch a reprieve?

...

"Hello, Celin," Legolas said, greeting the teenager warmly. In spite of his bad timing, Celin was like a son to him, and seeing him again made Legolas realize how much he had missed him.

"Hello, sir," Celin responded, sounding uncharacteristically subdued. He looked tired, too, Legolas noted with some concern. "Congratulations for the birth of your heir- and convey my regards to ma'am as well."

"Thank you, Celin, but please don't be so formal," Legolas said, troubled by the teenager's awkward demeanour. He paused for a moment, and then decided to go straight to the heart of the matter. "So…are you returning for good?"

Celin's head snapped up, his eyes widening with surprise. "You …you would let me return?" he stammered.

Legolas stared at him, stunned and slightly hurt that Celin had doubted him. "Of _course_, Celin," he said emphatically, "I told you that when you left, didn't I? I _told_ you were a son to me, I thought you knew you always have a home here-"

"I'm sorry- I'm sorry sir," Celin interrupted, and Legolas was surprised and troubled to see tears in his eyes. "It's just- these last few months have been-" He broke off, and drew in a shuddering breath, unable to continue.

Legolas regarded him for a moment in silence. "Did your parents say something?" he asked, "Is that why you thought you might not be welcome here any longer?"

Celin squeezed his eyes shut, and two tears slid slowly down his cheeks. "They said you were lying to me," he said hoarsely, "They said you were only too happy to see me leave, and you had no intention of ever letting me return. Naneth kept weeping and saying that she had destroyed my future by what she had done. Hearing her day in and day out saying I would always be in disgrace- I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let that make me doubt you."

Legolas waved his hand, dismissing the apology. "If you thought I wouldn't let you return," he said slowly, "What are you doing here?"

Celin flinched. "My father told me to leave. He said my mother was becoming too upset always thinking of how I had wronged her, and I was doing more harm than good by my presence. He told me to try to seek my fortune."

Legolas stared at him, aghast. "You mean he just sent you out into the wilds without even-" He broke off, scrutinising Celin's messy, dirt splattered appearance, and his worn clothes, with a fresh understanding. "How long have you been fending for yourself alone in the forest?" he asked, horrified as he realized what Celin had been up to all these months when Legolas thought he was safe at home.

"A few months," Celin replied, smiling faintly. "You taught me well."

Legolas did not smile back. "You shouldn't have had to go through this," he said, "You should have come to me sooner."

Celin paused for a moment, thinking, and then nodded in acceptance. "I should have," he said quietly.

"What made you come now?" Legolas asked.

Celin looked uncomfortable. "I haven't been able to catch game for the last three days," he admitted, "I needed food and shelter desperately, and I knew you wouldn't turn me away when I was in dire need. I kept remembering how you said that I was like a son to you."

"It is," Legolas said immediately, so forcefully that there was no room for doubt. "And of course I won't turn you away. Come in, it's almost lunchtime. I'm sure you must be hungry."

But Celin still hesitated. "What of Elano, sir?" he asked. "If my presence causes him pain-"

"He is recovering," Legolas interrupted. "He may not talk to you much or even acknowledge you, but he won't fall down dead at the sight of you, if that's what you're concerned about."

The thought of Celin, alone in the forest for months, constantly at risk from spiders and other foul creatures, made him shudder. He was never letting Celin out of his sight again.

"And what about the others?" Celin asked, "The students?"

"They might not be as warm as they once were," Legolas said, "But they will still accept your presence, and learn from you when I tell you to teach them."

_Or I'll have something to say about it, _he added silently_. _No one was going to push Celin around.

The young Elf stared at him. "You still want me to teach them?" he blurted out.

The older Elf looked at him incredulously. "Why else would I want you back in the school?" He rolled his eyes as Celin blushed. "Come in," he said firmly, "It's almost lunchtime, and you must be hungry. You always are."

Celin smiled, and followed Legolas back into his home.

…

TBC…

My apologies for the huge gaps between updates. I honestly can't help it. I'm now in my Second Year at college and the course load is completely insane. Things are only going to get worse, and frankly, I've been writing this story arc for way too long and am starting to lose interest in it. It has stopped inspiring me, although the characters are still very close to my heart and I fully intend to see it through to its conclusion. The thing is, though, I had originally planned for this to be a trilogy, with a last story to tie up loose ends, as it were. Instead, I'm going to put in an epilogue at the end of this which will cover everything I had planned to put in the sequel, just more briefly. The story will still have a satisfying end, though; I promise.

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. This story is fast drawing to its conclusion, so please bear with all these filler chapters I've been giving you recently. This IS more of a character story than a plot story, which is why I dwell so much on characters like Elano and Celin who aren't really central to the story. The climax is fast approaching, though, I assure you!


	32. Too Late

Title: Until We Reach Valinor

Chapter 32: Too Late

...

Celin's reception at the school was everything Legolas had feared and hoped it would be.  Elano had acted as though he hadn't even noticed Celin had returned, refusing to acknowledge him. It had hurt Celin, and disappointed Legolas a little, but it was a price they were both willing to accept for Elano's being spared from death. Celin had been horrified when he had learned how close Elano had come to fading, and had broken down in the privacy of Legolas's study. Legolas had comforted him to the best of his ability, and assured him that Elano was fine now, relating to him how Miriel had managed to save the day. The knowledge that his former friend at least had someone to hold onto now was some comfort to Celin.

 The older students who had known him best and for the longest for the most part accepted him back with a sensitivity which made him proud of them, and it made him realize that they were all indeed growing up. The newer students were less warm. Some, like Doroth, who Legolas had decided would _never_ learn, had been rude and refused to be taught by Celin. Legolas had put a stop such behaviour at once, with a sharp scolding and a gigantic list of chores which swiftly turned his insolence into grudging civility.

Celin, too, quickly learnt how to discipline the first years when he needed to, and Legolas's pride knew no bounds every time he thought about the Elfling's progress. Although Celin was more subdued now, and laughed less than he used to, the change suited him. He had lost his innocence, but lost it gracefully.

As the school year drew to a close, the preparations for the graduation began. It was, again, a busy time of year, and all the students were on edge. They didn't bother him as much as they had the previous year with doubts and questions, preferring to turn to each other and to Celin. Legolas didn't mind very much; he had long since accepted that he would be treated differently now that he was not only their teacher but their King. And truth be told, it was something of a relief because it left him with more time with his children.

As their teacher, he knew he could not judge their performances, so he arranged for three high-ranking soldiers to judge the students for the graduation. Since the school had achieved a great deal of fame over the past year, he also decided to make the event open to the public. He was proud of his oldest students, and wanted them to finish their school life in a blaze of glory. Besides, Gondor's finest and richest would be present for the occasion as well, as their sons and daughters made up part of the student body this year. The occasion seemed to call for some grandeur.

 Of course, this put even more pressure than usual on the students, who went about with harried expressions and spent almost all their time practicing for the graduation. The second years gave a great deal of advice to their juniors, not all of it either called upon or good; and occasionally irritated them when they adopted a superior or condescending attitude.

 "First year is very easy compared to second year," Legolas overheard Pilinel saying dismissively to a first year a fortnight before the graduation. "You don't have anything to complain about. Do you know, we have to hit moving targets while on horseback? Nothing in your course compares to that!"

The first year, already on edge from the ever-looming graduation, exploded like volcanoes. "That isn't exactly helpful, you know!"

"When you were in first year I'm sure you didn't find _anything_ easy!"

After overhearing a number of such exchanges, Legolas began to wonder if the pressure was beginning to be a bit too much, but Alanna told him not to worry about it. "They can stand a little sharpness from each other once in awhile, for children forgive more easily than adults do," she said. "Besides, when they leave these four walls they'll have to face the realities of the world. A little extra pressure won't hurt them. In fact, they might even perform better!"

With classes suspended to give the children time to prepare, Legolas and Alanna had more time to spare than usual, and they spent most of it with their children, who were growing more as every day went by.

"They're getting heavy, aren't they?" Alanna asked, adjusting Rilian on her hip as she walked alongside Legolas.

The latter paused. "Do you want me to take him?" he asked.

"And who would carry Miriel if you did that, pray?" Alanna retorted.

"I could carry them both," Legolas said.

Alanna burst out laughing. "I'd like to see you try! They squirm so much you'd probably drop them in seconds."

"I'll have you know I've scaled beasts the size of which you couldn't even imagine-"

"But have you ever tried to carry both of them at the same time?" she interrupted.

"No." His eyes widened. "Alanna, you didn't!"

"Don't worry, I made sure I was standing over the bed just in case," she said, serious now. "I wouldn't take such chances with my children, not with how clumsy I can be."

"I was only teasing, Alanna," Legolas said, troubled that she had taken him to heart. "I know better than to think-"

"I know that," she said, smiling at him to show that she hadn't been hurt. "But it doesn't hurt to be careful."

...

"That went well, didn't it?" Alanna asked Legolas in an undertone during the post-graduation celebration.

"Yes, yes it did," Legolas said. "Surprisingly well. I never expected so many of the first years to show so much calibre."

The second years, needless to say, had done as well as he had expected them to. Celin had once again been at the top of the class, and almost all the others had also scored well. All in all, he was very pleased with the others.

"I'm going to miss Linnor and the others next year," Alanna commented. "I've grown so used to them that- Rilian! Don't put that in your mouth!"

"Yes, I know what you mean," Legolas said, grimacing at whatever it was his son had been about to ingest. He stole a look at Miriel, and heaved a sigh of relief to see that she was still gurgling contentedly to Elano, who was, as usual, watching her.

"Thank the Valar Celin will remain next year," he said. "Otherwise I really don't know what I'd do."

"Oh Valar," she said suddenly. "Is that Doroth's father? He looks just like him!"

"Yes, I think so," said Legolas with a grimace. "And he doesn't look too pleased, either. I suppose his son has been complaining to him about all the great 'injustices' I've done him this year."

"Aragorn's talking to him, look; he'll smooth things over," Alanna reassured him.

"I think I had better go and speak to him, just the same," Legolas said, rising.

Alanna stood as well. "I'm finished eating, so I think I'll take Rilian and Miriel for a little walk in the gardens. I'm sure Elano wouldn't mind accompanying me."

"Is the celebration getting a little too much for you?" he asked knowingly.

"Too many people," she said ruefully, and then grinned. "I did grow up all alone in an isolated castle, you know, and would have been rotting there still if you hadn't braved all dangers and rescued me."

"Yes, we're both straight out of one of your fairy-tales," he said dryly, and then gestured to Doroth's father. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a rather irate parent to placate."

They parted ways.

...

"Ma'am?" Elano's tentative voice ruptured the silence.

"Yes?" she asked, but she was focussed on Rilian, not really listening.

"Do you ever..." he began, but stopped, apparently tongue-tied.

She focussed her full attention on him. "What is it, Elano?"

He flushed. "Do you ever mind that I spend so much time with Miriel? I take her away from you so much, that..."

She looked at him closely. "I would be lying if I said I don't miss her," she said, choosing her words carefully. "But I don't begrudge you the time you spend with her, and neither does Legolas." She smiled at him. "We named her for your sister, and she saved your life. That makes her yours, almost as much as she's ours."

"Would you like to hold her?" he asked. "I could hold Rilian. I don't spend nearly enough time with him."

"Alright," Alanna agreed at once. She never passed up an opportunity to spend time with Miriel.

She sat down on a stone seat on the side of the garden path and put Rilian down in her lap, so that she had both hands free to take Miriel from Elano. Elano, in turn, gathered Rilian up into his arms expertly. The child fussed a little at first, but soon settled under the influence of Elano's soothing murmurs.

"You're wonderful with children," Alanna remarked.

"Thank you, ma'am."

Miriel took hold of one of her fingers, and she smiled down at her, with an affectionate murmur of, "Dearest."

Rilian made a gurgling noise, arms stretching out his short arms towards a butterfly that had just flown past. Elano smiled in amusement. "What is it, Rilian? Is it a butterfly? Butter-fly. Do you want to catch it? Butterfly!"

He moved away, laughing at the baby's antics, and soon disappeared around the corner.

Alanna watched him go with a smile, marvelling at the change in him. It was such a pleasure to see him smile and laugh again, and only Miriel and Rilian seem to bring it out in him. She turned her attention to Miriel. The child was in high spirits, and gurgled happily, clutching her mother's finger tightly in one tiny hand and trying to put it in her mouth.

"Miriel," she scolded gently, although she still allowed the child to nibble at her finger. "I'll never survive when you start teething," she sighed.

Something rustled in front of her, but she didn't look up, thinking it was Elano. "Did you manage to catch the butterfly?"

But it wasn't Elano's voice that responded. "I'm afraid not," said a hard, cold awfully familiar voice, and her head jerked up in alarm and disbelief. "But I think I caught something better."

_"Aradhel?"_ Her heart leapt into her mouth, and she jumped up and moved backwards, putting the stone seat between them. "What are you _doing_ here?!" she tried to sound furious, rather than afraid, as befitting the wife of a monarch. "Legolas forbade you to come anywhere near me under pain of exile, when he finds out you-"

"Ah, but he also opened the graduation ceremony to the general public," Aradhel interrupted coolly. "I merely had to immerse myself in a large group of people as they entered. The guard did not even notice." A cruel, mocking expression descended on his features. "One has to wonder whether he cares for you as much as he would have the world believe. His defences were laughably easy to breach. After the threats I made, I would have thought he would have done more to ensure your safety. Perhaps he secretly wanted me to kill you?"

Alanna froze. "You...you wouldn't," she said, her voice shaking. Miriel began to fuss in her arms, and she gripped her more tightly. "You aren't that cruel."

"No, as it happens, I am not," the man said in that same, cold, cruel tone.

Alanna relaxed slightly.  The ridiculously arrogant Elf was only full of empty threats...that thought screeched to a halt when the man suddenly bared his teeth at her.

"I am far, far crueller, slut," he said, a feral look in his eyes, and drew his sword in a flash.

Frozen with fear, she could only scream as the sword flew towards her head.

...

"And I assure you, my Lord, we are not giving him a severer chastisement than we give others-" He stopped, suddenly alert, as a faint echo of a scream, almost inaudible, reached his ears. Cold fear settled in his stomach when he realized it had come from the gardens.

_ Alanna._

He took off at a sprint.

...

Elano nearly dropped Rilian as a terrified scream shattered the air, coming from where he had left Alanna not a minute ago. For one split second, he stood still, and then he turned and began to sprint back to where he had left her. There was always a chance that a spider or some other insect had crawled onto her dress and frightened her, but she was Legolas's wife, and he wasn't about to leave it up to chance.

He stopped suddenly, registering that Rilian was still in his arms. Ripping off his cloak, he threw the cloth roughly onto the ground, placed the baby onto it, and sprinted onward, cringing as the sound of the child's wailing filled the air. Valar, he couldn't believe he was leaving the Crown Prince on the floor in the middle of the royal gardens, but he was not about to go charging headlong into a potentially dangerous situation with an infant in his arms.

As he ran, he drew the sheathed knife he always kept on his person's at Legolas's insistence. He was glad of it now, even though the feeling of its cold, smooth hilt in his hand filled him with revulsion. He swallowed hard, praying that he wouldn't have to use it.

_Please let it just be a spider..._

He burst around the corner and let out an inarticulate cry at the sight that met his eyes. Alanna was lying lifeless on the floor, and Miriel was lying next to her, her head miraculously cushioned by one of Alanna's lax arms, wailing for all she was worth. An Elf he did not recognize was standing over them with a sword in his hand.

"No!" Elano shouted, running forward.

The Elf raised his sword above his head...but he wasn't aiming it at Alanna.

_"No!"_ Elano screamed as the sword began its fatal descent towards Miriel.

On pure instinct, he let fly the knife in his hand, aiming to kill...but he knew it was already too late.

...

TBC...

Yes, I know, it was a very, very cruel cliffie. Had to have one though, right?

And I did warn you the story was going to become very dark. I couldn't have had Alanna and Legolas just blissfully happy forever, could I?


	33. Not Going Anywhere

Title: Until We Reach Valinor

Chapter 33: Not Going Anywhere

WARNING: This chapter contains the death of a child. I tried not to make it too graphic, but it's there. I did warn you it was going to get dark…

…

Legolas stopped short when he entered the clearing, his eyes unable to comprehend what he was seeing. Alanna lay on the floor, unmoving, and Aradhel lay next to her; the hilt of a knife protruding from his back. His eyes were insane, rolling. Elano was hunched over, sobbing. Miriel was cradled loosely in his arms, and she was…she was…her_ eyes_ were blank and unseeing- completely empty. _Dead._

_No, no, no, no, no_, his mind screamed in agony, but he couldn't move. This couldn't be happening. This was just a nightmare his overtired brain had invented; at any moment now he would wake up and Alanna would be fast asleep right next to him, her soft brown eyes open rather than closed, and Miriel would be with Rilian, safe and sound in her cradle, not lying with _blood_ pooling from her tiny body, staining Elano's hands. _Please Valar, let this all just be a nightmare_.

But it wasn't a nightmare. The smell of blood _(Valar, his _daughter's_blood)_ and the sound of Elano's guttural sobbing were all too real. And then Aradhel turned his head towards him. There was a crazed look in his eyes, and he began to laugh. The sound snapped Legolas out of his paralysis, and he strode forward, white-hot fury coursing through his veins, drowning out everything else. He gripped Aradhel's shoulders, lifted him, and shoved him viciously back into the ground. The other Elf made a strangled sound of pain as the movement jammed the knife deeper into his back, and Legolas felt a moment of savage satisfaction.

"Why, you son of a whore?" he hissed through gritted teeth. Dimly, over the roaring in his ears, he heard the sound of running footsteps close by, and a few moments later Aragorn burst into the clearing, accompanied by the royal guard.

Aradhel coughed and spat blood. "I told you…" he gasped, "I told you would regret making an enemy of me. You ruined me. And then you named your son after _him._" He spat the word with the same intense hatred that had sent a shiver of unease down Legolas's back so many months ago, on his and Alanna's wedding day. But he had ignored it then. "The Crown Prince...did you think I was simply going to sit by and _watch_ as you cuckolded all of Greenwood?" He laughed breathlessly. "No one bearing the name of Rilian will rule this kingdom now. Your son is _dead_…and you and that whore will have to live with that for the rest of your lives…" He paused, and then intoned mockingly, "_Until eternity fades._"

Aragorn strode forward, horror in his eyes. "That isn't Prince Rilian," he said hoarsely, "That's the princess. That's Miriel."

"No!" Arahdel shouted, his body jerking under the force of his denial. "Everyone knows that the Crown Prince is always with the Queen. Everyone knows the king favors his daughter-" He gasped suddenly, and then began to cough, blood dribbling from his mouth, staining his lips. "I cannot have failed," he whispered. "For so long I planned this…I cannot fail..." He coughed again and then, suddenly, his eyes rolled up into his head, and his body stilled.

Shuddering, Legolas let go of him and stumbled back; pure, unadulterated anguish driving him to his knees. His baby girl was dead. Elano's sobs echoed in his ears, so raw and despairing that for a moment he thought it was _his_ grief. As if from a great distance, he heard a concerned voice calling his name, but it was oddly muted. And then Aragorn was kneeling beside him, taking his face between his hands and forcing him to look at him. He was saying something, his expression frantic, but all Legolas could hear was Elano's broken sobbing and the roaring in his own ears. He stared at his friend's face in blank incomprehension, unable to speak or move.

And then he felt Alanna stirring on the ground and his eyes snapped to her face in spite of himself- he hadn't looked at her until now because he was afraid that Aradhel had killed her as well. She looked so fragile that something inside him shattered. His own words from so many months ago came back to haunt him- to _damn _him. _I'll always catch you when you fall_, he'd promised her that day whenshe'd tripped and then feared her clumsiness had harmed their unborn child_. _And now, she was lying on the floor, and his daughter- the same child he had sworn to protect- was lying next to her, brutally murdered. He hadn't been able to protect either of them from Aradhel. Alanna's eyelids began to flutter, and he before he knew what he was doing, he was running blindly away from the clearing.

Unable to face her.

…

When Alanna came to, the first thing she registered was the pain in her head. Groaning, she opened her eyes, blinking as Aragorn's face came into view. "Aragorn? What-"

"Alanna, are you alright?" he interrupted her, "How is your head? Are you feeling dizzy?"

She blinked up at him. "Dizzy- I don't-" Suddenly her eyes widened as the memories of what had happened flashed through her mind. "Oh- Valar-" She struggled to sit up, eyes wide and horrified, letting out a low cry as she saw Miriel

"Alanna, I'm so sorry," Aragorn said, gripping her shoulders as she listed to the right.

"No, no, no, this can't- I can't-" she was sobbing so violently that her entire frame shook. "Where's Legolas? I need- Valar, where is Rilian?" Her eyes filled with panic.

"He's right here, Your Highness," said one of the guards, hurrying into the clearing. Rilian was in his arms, wrapped in Elano's cloak, keening as though he had lost half his soul. "We followed his cries to the garden path," the guard said, "He is unharmed, as is the King-"

Alanna snatched her son away from him, clinging to him as though he was all she had left. She turned to look again at Miriel and then at Aradhel, and then turned away shuddering with grief. "Why didn't he kill me?" she asked Aragorn brokenly. "Where is Legolas? Why didn't he kill _me?"_

...

The guard approached Elano hesitantly. He was a member of Legolas's personal guard, and therefore knew how close he was to Miriel. "Elano?" He squatted next to him, placed a hand on his shaking shoulders. "You can let go of her now. We'll take care of her."

But as he moved to take the child, Elano suddenly reacted, scrambling away from him. "No!" he said, looking half crazed with grief. "You won't take her from me!"

"Elano, you know we have to take care of her," the guard protested.

"No," Elano said harshly, backing further away. "I'll do it. Don't- don't touch her."

Clutching Miriel's broken body, he stumbled away.

…

Aragorn knocked on the door to Legolas's study, got no response, and entered. His friend was sitting on the floor, his back to the wall; his face blank. He turned empty eyes on Aragorn as he entered, and the Man had to swallow twice before he could speak. "I sent the guests away and requested those who had arrangements nearby to leave with their children," he said in a low voice. "The rest will be gone by tomorrow."

Legolas nodded silently, his eyes still empty.

"I also spoke with the guard at the front entrance." Aragorn hesitated. "He is very distraught at his failure to recognize Aradhel and stop him at the gate, but I don't think it's his fault. There were so many people streaming into the palace today that all Aradhel would have had to do to get in was immerse himself in a crowd."

Legolas nodded again. "Tell him he won't incur any penalties for this," he said in a flat voice. "The blame for this does not lie with him."

Aragorn studied him for a moment, and then sat down beside him. "You know it…doesn't lie with you either, don't you?" he asked his friend, who didn't respond. "Legolas?" he said more sharply, "You know you can't blame yourself for this, don't you?"

"I should have been with her," Legolas whispered. "With both of them. I swore I'd never leave them unprotected. I should have guessed." He turned tortured eyes to Aragorn's. "There have been rumors for months now about how bitter he had become, but I just ignored them. He openly swore his hatred for me at my own wedding, swore he would make me pay for taking away his title, and I just-"

"Legolas, there is _no way_ you could have foreseen all this!" Aragorn exclaimed, "What Aradhel did was something most _Men_ shirk from, let alone the great Firstborn! I don't think any Elf has ever actually killed a child before-" Legolas flinched, but Aragorn forged on, because he needed to get this into his friend's head- "so how could you possibly have seen something like this?"

But Legolas just shook his head, his eyes empty and lifeless, completely void of hope.

…

Celin stood rooted to the spot as Aragorn announced to the school at large that the princess of Greenwood was _dead_. As shocked murmurs sounded from, all he could feel was horror. He had seen baby Miriel on numerous occasions; Legolas had even let him hold her once. She was a beautiful, bouncing child, and Elano…Elano was devoted to her. Valar, this was going to _kill_ him, and sir. How on earth could she be _dead?_ Elves didn't just _die._

Everywhere around him, people were asking the same question. Aragorn held up his hands, waiting for silence to fall. "I know you all have questions," he said, looking uncharacteristically pale, "but you must all wait until the public announcement, which will be made within the next few days. Until then, I would urge you to be patient, and not to try and approach any of the royal family, even to give condolences. There will be time enough for that at the funeral. Unfortunately, we will be closing the school immediately, for an indeterminate period, and we need all those of you who have arrangements outside the palace to leave at once. The others may stay until they are able to make arrangements, but are urged to keep quiet and observe mourning while they are here. I am sorry if this has caused you any inconvenience, but I'm sure you will all understand that this is a very difficult time for the King and his wife. If you have any questions, please come to me. Thank you."

As people began to disperse, Celin pushed through the crowds towards Aragorn. It took him a long time to get to him, as he was already being crowded by a number of over-zealous Elves who appeared to be trying to find out all they could about what had happened under the guise of asking Aragorn to convey their condolences to Legolas. When the people surrounding Gondor's king finally started to disperse, Celin approached him cautiously, as he looked irritated.

At the sight of him, Aragorn looked even more so. "What is it, Celin?" he asked sharply. "You know I can't reveal the details of what happened, not even to you-"

"That isn't why I'm here, Lord Aragorn," Celin interrupted, "I know you probably don't want to hear this right now, but I can't leave the palace."

For a moment, Aragorn looked even more annoyed, and then his face cleared and he sighed. "Ah, yes, of course. Your parents. I suppose they aren't here today?"

Celin lowered his eyes. "No, Lord Aragorn, they aren't. They thought it best not to attend considering…"

"Of course," Aragorn nodded. "Well, I suppose you may stay, then. Legolas told me they sent you out on your own to seek your fortune. Under the circumstances, I don't think it's wise for you to go back. He would not want that."

"Lord Aragorn…I thank you, but if this only concerned my parents then I would have left without making any fuss," Celin said. He had lived alone in the forest, fending for himself, for months, and he would do it again if he had to. But…"This is about Elano. I have to stay for him."

Aragorn frowned. "Celin, I appreciate your intentions, but are you sure that's wise?"

"He's just lost the last person he has left, Lord Aragorn, and he is still reeling from his mother's death. He is completely alone, and he needs someone by his side. I won't push him, I won't ask him what happened to her, and if he wants me to keep my distance, I'll do that, too. But I need to know where he is right now, so I can let him know that he has at least one person he can come to when things get too much for him."

Aragorn studied him for a long moment, and then nodded reluctantly, unable to deny the truth of Celin's words. "Alright. But I don't know exactly where he is- he took Miriel with him and disappeared into the castle. "

"Thank you, sir." He turned away, and began to walk towards the palace, but Aragorn's voice stopped him.

"Celin…take care of him, will you? Don't let him do anything stupid."

"I won't, sir," he said with more confidence than he felt, and began to hurry towards the palace. He was acutely conscious of the responsibility the Man had placed on his shoulders. Elano meant a great deal to Legolas, and Celin knew it would kill his teacher to lose him, too. And yet how could Elano _not_ give up after everything he had been through? He shook off the thought.

Soon, he reached the door to Elano's bedchamber. From the sounds of hitched, uneven breathing coming from inside, he knew the Elf was in there. Taking a deep breath, he knocked softly and then entered. His breath caught at the sight that met his eyes. Elano was standing at a table, a washcloth in hand, carefully and reverently wiping away the blood from Miriel's body. He averted his eyes at once, but even that one glance was enough to tell him that her death had not been an accident, and bile rose in his throat. After a moment, he forced himself to look again at Elano, though he had to fight down another wave of nausea at the blood-stained washcloth and the basin of reddened water beside it. His friend wasn't crying, although judging by his uneven breathing and his bloodshot eyes, he'd been sobbing just a short while ago. He looked weary and hurt to his bones.

He had not looked up even once since Celin's entry, and the younger Elf wasn't sure that he was even aware of his presence. Some instinct told him not to interrupt this, so he stood there silently as Elano wiped away the last of the blood, stitched what looked like a wound made by a sword, and then, last of all, began to comb Miriel's hair. His motions were so gentle that Celin found his eyes stinging fiercely. Finally, Elano closed Miriel's eyes with a gesture so tender that he might have been caressing her face, and then covered her up with a white cloth. For a long moment, they both stood stock still, and then Elano backed away from the table, and sank bonelessly down onto the floor.

Swallowing hard, Celin moved forward. He had never seen his friend look so _drained_, and he wondered if this was what he had looked like when he was fading. How was he going to keep him from giving up? What did Elano have left to stay for, anyway?

"Elano," he said, and paused, taken aback by his own hoarseness. His friend didn't say anything, just raised his head a little; but it was more acknowledgement than he had gotten from him in months. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Elano, I know I'm probably the last person you want to see right now. You haven't spoken to me or looked at me in months, but I haven't been blind. I've seen you with Miriel, and I_ know_ how much she meant to you. You shouldn't be alone right now. I know you hate me for what my mother did-" at this Elano flinched, and Celin almost lost his nerve then and there- "but I used to be your best friend, and Valar knows you're still mine. If my being here is causing you more pain, you don't have to say anything- I'll just leave right now. But I wanted you to know that I'll be here if you need me." He shifted uneasily from foot to foot, waiting long moments for Elano to respond. Bitter disappointment washed over him when he didn't. Sighing, he began to turn away.

"Celin, wait." Fighting down a sudden wave of panic, Celin turned back towards his friend. This was the first time Elano had spoken to him in months, and he didn't know what he would do if he rejected his friendship. Months of silence had been hard enough to bear, but now that that it had been broken, Celin was terrified of what Elano might say.

Elano inhaled deeply. "I'm sorry. These last few months, I know I've been…I _know _it isn't your fault that my mother died. It's just…every time I look at you I see your mother's face…"

"It's alright," Celin said, his voice rough and his eyes stinging, "You don't need to apologize. I understand." He began to turn away again, but once again, Elano's voice stopped him.

"No, Celin, you don't understand. I'm not asking you to leave." He exhaled shakily. "Right now, my mother's death is leagues from my mind. I don't c_are _if you look like her killer. I put the _last_ of my hope, all the love that I had left to give, in Miriel, and now she's gone too and I'm…" he shuddered and closed his eyes. "For sir's sake, I can't let myself fade, Celin. I _know_ that. He's done so much for me; I need to stay for as long as he needs me, but I don't know if I can…" He again let out a shaky breath. "I need you. I know I don't have the right to say that, after how I've treated you, but…"

Eyes full, Celin knelt beside him and pulled him into a tight embrace. "Hush," he said tightly. "You have every right to sat that. Whatever you need, Elano. Don't apologize."

Elano hugged him back tightly, clinging to him. "I'm just so tired, Celin," he said in a strangled voice. "Why did I have to lose her too? She was all I had left."

"Hush," Celin said. "No, she wasn't. I'm here, Elano; I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere." He hugged his friend a little tighter, blinked back tears, and whispered, "I promise."

…

TBC…

I know most authors would have found a way to save Miriel, and I'm probably going to get a lot of angry reviews for doing this. Just when they'd all started to be happy, and all that. But I did have a reason for it- it is the one event that will make or break Alanna and Legolas's relationship. I wanted to explore the effect of something like this on their just blossomed friendship. Also, yes, I know I've been unspeakably cruel to Elano. But I'm sure you know people, in your own lives, who are really, really unlucky- people who have their family and friends continually dying on them, relationships falling apart, etc. You feel sorry for them, wonder how life could be so cruel to them, etc. Elano is one of these people- I didn't really intend him to become so tragic, it just kind of happened. Right from 'A Teacher's Duty', in which he's reeling from his father's death, my story just kept making him lose people. I hope you guys aren't put off by how angsty this is getting. Bear with me for a few chapters, the story's almost over. Ta!


	34. The Spaces Between Us

Title: Until We Reach Valinor

Chapter 34: The Spaces between Us

...

She had not let Rilian out of her sight since she had lost her daughter; he had become her entire world. Legolas was avoiding her. He had not spoken one word to her, or looked at her since Miriel's death. In the first hours after Miriel's death she had repeatedly and with increasing desperation asked after him- but Arwen and Aragorn had only given her vague non-answers about how he was busy dealing with the political fallout of what had happened. She had known at once that they were lying, and when he didn't come to their bedchamber that night, or any of the nights that followed, she had been certain of it. She had felt cold and sad, but not surprised.

Of course he was avoiding her; _of course_ he didn't want to look at her. He blamed her for Miriel's death, just as she blamed herself. Miriel had been her charge, and she hadn't been able to do anything to protect her. She hadn't even tried to run, and she hadn't shouted for help until Aradhel was swinging a sword at her head. If she had, maybe Elano would have gotten there in time. Maybe Legolas would have.

But she hadn't had any idea that Aradhel had wanted to kill her daughter. She hadn't known he had that much hatred, that much violence him..._You should have, _a voice whispered in her mind, condemning her_. You saw it in his eyes, the day of the wedding. _The wedding, another disaster for which she was to blame. If only she had been able to control her laughter, if only she hadn't choked. Perhaps then her beautiful daughter would still be alive. It had been her idea; too, to name her son after Rilian...she shuddered with guilt and self-loathing. She had all but _invited _Aradhel onto the palace grounds to seek revenge.

And now here she was, dressed in black- as all of Greenwood would be for months to come- attending her daughter's funeral, clinging to her son as though he was the only thing keeping her alive, unable to keep in her sobs. Legolas sat beside her, back straight as a ramrod, looking blankly in front of him; even now, every inch a King. Cold, stiff, he refused to acknowledge her presence.

She ached to take his hand, ached to hold him and grieve _with_ him. But she was terrified that he would pull away from her. And the last thing she wanted was confirmation of what she already feared- that she had lost not just her daughter, but her husband, too.

...

"Legolas." His friend took a second longer than normal to look up in acknowledgement, something he was doing more and more often since Mirel's death. The distance, along with the careful blankness in his friend's eyes reminded Aragorn disturbingly of Elano in the months following his mother's death.

"What is it, Estel?"

Aragorn sighed, wishing his friend could be spared this. "It is Aradhel's mother, _mellonamin_," he said very quietly. "She is here to...collect his body."

Legolas's back seemed to grow impossibly stiff. Something flickered in his eyes, but it was gone before Aragorn could read it. "Where?"

"The entrance hall."

Legolas nodded, and started to rise, but Aragorn stopped him. "Legolas, you don't need to do this," he said. "Send someone else, send _me._ You don't need to see her."

"Yes, I do," Legolas stated tonelessly, and rose. Aragorn hurried after him, grimacing a little at the startled looks from Legolas's guards. No one had expected him to actually meet Aradhel's mother in did his friend _always _have to do everything the hard way?

As Legolas walked into the entrance hall people scrambled to their feet, bowing and dropping curtsies as he passed. More people than usual; clearly the news that Aradhel's mother was here had spread quickly. He walked towards his usual chair, turned, dipped his head to the room at large, and then sat down, indicating that everyone else should also do the same. His eyes swept over the room, coming to rest on an all too familiar blonde head. The woman looked up, met his gaze for a moment, and then dropped it. Her blue eyes were the same shade as Aradhel's, but red-rimmed and filled with a wealth of grief. "You may approach, Lady Amalasia." he said.

She looked startled at his form of address, but came forward and knelt before him. "Your Highness, I..." she began in a low, shaky voice, "I can offer no excuses for him. My husband sailed when he was still a child, and he came into his inheritance and title too young. His arrogance was inexcusable, as were his...actions. I should have...I know I failed, and you have every right to keep his b-body from me, if you wish to. You have every right to exile or put to death our entire family. But I had to try...I had to ask." She met his eyes and held them. "He is still my son."

"You may rise," he said coldly, and she did. He stared at her for a long, wordless moment. "Aradhel's title transferred to you when I stripped them from him, and that will continue to be so," he said expressionlessly. "His lands are also now yours. You may take his... body...on condition that he will not be buried within two leagues of any other grave. The taint of his actions should not touch those who lie in the ground."

"Thank you, Your Highness," she said fervently. "You have been most generous." The surprised murmurs around the hall indicated that she was not the only one who thought so.

"I have been just," he responded, his voice hard. "As your King, l have done my duty. Nothing more, nothing less."

And then he swept out of the room, his face as blank and cold as when he had entered it.

...

"I heard that Aradhel's mother was here today," Alanna's voice, soft as it was, made Arwen start, as she had been silent for the last two hours She set down the silver gray scarf she had been embroidering, and studied the woman before her. Alanna's brown eyes were red-rimmed and shadowed with dark circles, and her son was nestled close beside her- as he always was, these days- clutching his mother's finger tightly in his tiny fist.

"Yes, she was," Arwen said carefully.

"She wished to collect Aradhel's body?" Alanna asked, a tremor in her voice.

"Yes."

"And Legolas let her take him."

"He is the King, Alanna," Arwen reminded her gently, though inwardly she wondered how Legolas had found the strength to do that, king or no. "It was his duty to grant it to her." Not for the first time, she almost wished Aradhel had_ not_ died from the wound Elano had inflicted on him. Perhaps if Legolas and Alanna had had a chance to blame him and _hate_ him, to give a trial and sentence him to death, they would not have been avoiding each other; perhaps they'd be blaming _him _and not themselves. She and Aragorn were both sure that was what was causing the rift between them.

"I'm not-" Alanna inhaled deeply, pain in her eyes. "I _know_ he was only doing his duty, I don't blame. I just wish...I just wish he'd summoned me, too. I am the Queen, am I not? I should have been there too!" Her voice rose on the last words, a touch of hysteria in them.

"He was probably trying to spare you pain," Arwen said cautiously. "No one expected either of you to actually meet with her, but Legolas did, stubborn as he is." she shrugged. "I suppose he thought he was protecting you."

"Or maybe he just wanted to avoid speaking to me or looking at me," Alanna said bitterly. "After all, if he had summoned me, he would actually have had to _endure_ my presence."

Arwen stared at her, unsure what to say. She had known that things were strained between them but hadn't realized that Legolas's avoidance had reached such an extreme. "I'm sure-"

"He blames me," Alanna whispered, leaning forward and burying her face in her hands, and this time she didn't sound bitter, only weary and heartsick. "For...for Miriel. For naming Rilian, the wedding; that's why he won't-"

A chill ran down Arwen's spine. "Alanna, no," she said, "Of _course_ he doesn't blame you. The only person to blame for this is Arahdel. He's just being _Legolas._ Ruthlessly suppressing on all emotion, pushing away his friends- this _isn't_ the first time he's done this." She remembered what had happened the previous year, when Legolas had been willing to kill himself rather than turn to anyone for help. "It's how he deals with grief," she said, "it's how Thranduil raised him, to never show weakness, even to those closest to him. You haven't known each other very long, but I've seen how close you both have become. I've seen how much he loves you." For some reason, she flinched at that. "He'll try, but he won't be able to deal with this alone. He _does_ need you, Alanna."

But Alanna didn't raise her head, for she had heard what Arwen hadn't said...that Legolas might be too proud, too stubborn, to admit to needing anyone.

...

"Legolas," Aragorn hesitated, hating himself for the duty that was taking him away from his friend at a time like this. "I'm so sorry, mellonamin, but I'm going to have to leave soon. I've already been away from Gondor for more than a year, and I can't delay my return any longer..."

"It's alright, Estel," Legolas said, his friend's guilt making him look more _present_ than he had in days, for which Aragorn was grateful. "I doubt there's very much you can do to help, anyway. This...this isn't something that..." He looked away, swallowing hard.

"Legolas..." He sighed, feeling helpless. "You have to talk to her." Their avoidance of each other had been going on for more than a _week_ now; enough was enough.

The hint of emotion in his friend's eyes instantly disappeared, replaced again with that horrible, empty blankness. "No."

"Legolas, she's your_ wife_..."

"I know," he responded tonelessly, "And I failed her." A flicker of pain spasmed across his pain, but it was gone again almost before Aragorn saw it. "I can't bring myself to face her, and I doubt she'd want to see me even if I did."

"On the contrary, your avoidance is hurting her," Aragorn told him bluntly. "Far from blaming you, she thinks _you_ blame _her._"

"That's ridiculous," the Elf countered, clearly disbelieving. "She hasn't exactly been seeking me out, either. She probably wants nothing to do with me, and with good reason."

"Legolas," he said, knowing he had to try, although he knew it was probably a lost cause. "She's your wife, the mother of your son. Haven't you both already lost enough?"

Legolas flinched, but remained stubbornly silent.

Aragorn took a deep breath, fighting another wave of frustrated helplessness. "I know I can't begin to understand what you're going through, and as you said, there's little _I_ can do to help you...deal with this." If that was even possible. "But _Alanna can_. She's Mirel's mother- the only other person who knows _exactly _what you're going through. I've seen how much you've opened up to her in such a short time, and I _know_ how unlike you that is. If anyone can get you through this, it's her, Legolas, so for the love of Eru, don't push her away."

Legolas was silent for a long moment, and then he turned empty, expressionless eyes upon his friend. "I don't think anyone can get me through this," he whispered, and then he rose to his feet and walked silently out of the room.

Aragorn stared after him. _You're wrong_, he thought fiercely, desperately, _you have to be._

His eyes stung. _Please, be wrong..._

...

TBC...

Well, this is a bit shorter than usual, but it seemed a logical place to end the chapter. And this much angst is probably better only in small doses.

The title of the chapter is taken from the lyrics of the Titanic theme song by Celin Dion, you know, "_far across the distance, and spaces between us..."_ Of course, I've used it in a very different sense here. I thought the phrase fit the current situation.

Please review and tell me what you think of all the angstiness.


	35. Until Eternity Fades

Title: Until We Reach Valinor

Chapter 35: Until Eternity Fades

...

Days passed in a haze of empty numbness. The palace was oppressively silent; no one spoke above a whisper. Elves garbed in black went silently about their duties, making the place feel like death itself. All of Greenwood was in mourning.

Legolas continued on, completely disconnected from everyone around him, disconnected from himself. Aragorn had tried more than once to get through to him before he left for Gondor, but to no avail. Even Elano had tried to approach him- he had noticed distantly that the Elf was doing better than he had expected, he had been almost sure he would fade after losing Rilian- but he had pushed him away just as he had everyone else.

Alanna, however, had not approached him- in fact, he hadn't even seen her since the funeral. She had taken to having his meals ensconced in their bedchamber, and he himself had not entered their room even to rest, fearing both her presence and the nightmares sleep would bring. The room had also been where the twins had been born...he cut the thought of at once, afraid of the memories. Some small part of him knew he couldn't continue like this much longer- the longest he had ever managed to go without sleep had been a month, and it had nearly cost him his life; at some point he would certainly break, and the longer he kept this up the worse it would be. But his overriding instinct was to keep up a mask of mechanical stoicism and to bury himself in empty numbness. It was as much self-preservation as it was pride.

But the day finally came when he couldn't keep from entering their bedchamber any longer. Strangely, it wasn't the need for sleep that finally forced the necessity on him, but something much more mundane. He was overdue in paying the palace servants and guards for the month's services. Miriel's death had thrown everyone's routines off kilter, and it had slipped his mind. Not that anyone had tried to bring his attention to this - no one was tactless enough to bring such a thing up at a time like this. He knew that even if he'd neglected to pay their salaries for months, they wouldn't have drawn his attention to it, but that was no excuse for him to delay now that he had remembered.

The treasury was a three day's ride from the palace, and he didn't want to keep his staff waiting for the six days it would take for the money to be fetched. Some of them had families who depended on what he paid them. So he had no choice but to use the substantial cache he kept in his own private safe for exactly these kinds of situations, which of course _had_ to be located in their bedchamber. He sighed, wishing that he'd installed the thing in his study when they'd first moved here permanently, but at the time he had wanted to show Alanna that all his wealth was hers, too. They had just been married and it had seemed an apt gesture. He had even tried to show her how to open the safe, and she had dropped the keys three times, laughing at her own incompetence in that self-depreciating way she had- he cut the memories off abruptly, commanding his mind not to go there, forcing it back to the blank numbness he needed to function.

He procrastinated, waited till the small hours of the morning when he was sure Alanna would be asleep, and then finally tiptoed into his own bedchamber like a thief come to steal something precious. And stopped short before he had managed three steps into the room. Candles lit the room, odd for this time of night, and Alanna was curled up in a foetal position on _his_ side of the bed, two things which she had never done before in all the nights they had shared a bed; but that was not what made his blood freeze and his breath rush from him as though he had been punched in the gut.

It was the cradle. Sitting innocuously in the centre of the room...he remembered standing over it with Alanna that night when the twins had been born and revelling in the feeling of having a _family_ for the first time in his life_. _Pain knifed through him, and this time he couldn't block it out. His feet moved forward of their own accord. The twins had shared it; even though the cradle had originally been made for one, they had seemed to enjoy the close contact, and he and Alanna had decided against having it replaced. Images flashed before his eyes as his feet brought him inevitably closer. Alanna, singing them softly to sleep, her face alight with love. Miriel chirping happily as Alanna lifted her out to be fed, himself laughing while Alanna peered over the cradle in an attempt to amuse the twins, which had the opposite effect of sending them both into floods of tears, fearful of the grotesque contortions of their mother's face.

Desperately, he tried to cut off the memories, but they kept coming, like a flood gushing forth when a dam breaks. And then he was standing in front of the cradle, staring down at his son. His heart gave a painful twist when he realized that he had not seen him once since Miriel's funeral. The sight of Rilian curled in a forlorn little lump under the covers seemed profoundly wrong- suddenly the cradle that had always been meant to fit one seemed too big. Rilian stirred, and the covers shifted, a glint of silver shining out from beneath them. Frowning, he reached out, and then the breath left his lungs in a rush as his hand closed on a silver rattle. Aragorn and Arwen had gifted them the rattles when the twins had been born. Their names were carved into them in intricate lettering; other than that they were identical. Hands shaking, vision blurring, he stared down at the rattle in his hand.

Pain exploded in his chest, snapping what was left of his control, and his knees buckled. His hands tightened around the rattle as the sobs came at last, shaking his body so violently that he didn't even try to get up, but let himself fall sideways onto the floor and press his face into the carpet. The ache in his chest was an awful, stabbing thing that was threatening to tear his body apart, and it left no room for thought or memory. There was only loss, and the rattle in his hands.

It could have been minutes or hours later when he felt gentle hands trying to pry his fingers away, and he let out a choked, inarticulate sound and tightened his grip further. The hands drew away, leaving him feeling more bereft than ever. And then he felt the brush of skirts above him as someone stepped over his prone form; and a warm body pressed against his back and legs, an arm settled over his shaking shoulders; the other pressed against his back. He choked, trying weakly to pull away from comfort he knew he did not deserve.

"Don't," Alanna's voice whispered the word into his neck, her arm tightening around him. "Not this time." Her breathing hitched and he felt body shake against his.

He was still barely even aware of where he was, of anything besides the awful pain in his chest, but some primal instinct made him reach blindly for her hand. She squeezed it back for all she was worth. He realized dimly that he had let go of the rattle, but couldn't bring himself to care.

Her skin felt so warm after the cold metal, her tears hot against the back of his neck.

...

Four hours later, and the sobs had finally tapered into quiet hiccups. The grief was still there, a dull, insistent ache in his chest, but more than that he felt utterly drained and exhausted. The lack of sleep had finally caught up to him, and his eyes felt gritty and swollen, in fact, it was all he could do to keep himself from falling asleep where he was. As the sobs abated he had also became aware of where he was, and felt the stirrings of embarrassment that years of pride and fierce independence wouldn't allow him not to feel as he realized he had basically broken down in her arms on the floor of their bedroom. He'd had reason, of course...but he had never allowed himself to be so vulnerable with anyone before, never wept with so much abandon that he had lost track of his very surroundings.

And yet her body felt so solid and warm against his back, her hand so firm in his, that he didn't want to pull away. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been held so tightly. Eventually, she shifted against him.

"We should..." she cleared her throat as her voice cracked after the hours of weeping. "We should move to the bed."

A beat as his tired mind processed this, and then he nodded in acquiescence and pulled away from her. "I...I need to get Rilian," she said when they had disentangled themselves and gotten to their feet.

It was only then that he realized Rilian wasn't in his crib anymore. "Where...?"

"I gave him to Calianna," she said quickly, and he realized with shock that he had been so wrapped up in his grief that he hadn't even noticed. "But he needs to be near me, or in the crib, or he won't sleep." But Rilian had always been such a sound sleeper. The thought came from nowhere, a memory from what might have been another life. "Ever since M-Miriel..." She stumbled. "He's become so restless, cries so easily..."

He stared at her in silence, and was suddenly hit by the fact that until tonight, he hadn't even so much as _looked_ at his son since...since Miriel had died. _Weeks_. It couldn't have been that long, could it? He opened his mouth to say something, but she was turning away and hurrying out of the room before he had a chance. Moments later, _she_ was back with Rilian in her arms, making soft, hushing noises to the child, who was completely distraught, crying as if he had lost a piece of himself. Which he had, Legolas realized, suddenly remembering what Elano had once told him about his sister's death, that he had actually _felt_ her die.

His stomach curdled and before he knew what he was doing, he was rushing forward. "Give him to me." The instincts which he had tried to kill to dull the pain of losing one child roared back to life at the sight of Rilian's distress. _He still had a son left._

Alanna looked surprised for a moment, and then she wordlessly handed Rilian over to him. He held tightly to his chest, eyes blurring with emotion, and felt the awful weight of guilt for what he had almost done. He had broken yet another promise, one that he had made to himself, that he would never become his father. Not that Thranduil had been a bad father, by any means...but he had been distant. Formal, almost as if Legolas was one of his many subjects. He had never been able to let himself get very close to his son after losing both Gilraen and Ivana. An act of self-preservation which Legolas had never resented him for because he had always known his father loved him...but he had always wished his father had been closer to him, known him better. When Miriel and Rilian had been born, he'd sworn he wouldn't do that to them. And yet, here he was, holding his son for the first time in _weeks._

"Valar, I'm sorry," he whispered, dropping bonelessly onto the bed, his son still clutched tightly in his arms. "I'm so sorry I neglected you. I won't anymore, I won't, I promise."

Alanna took a seat beside him, and began to sing softly, if a little hoarsely a lullaby that they had both used to put Miriel to sleep. It was she who had always been restless. His eyes watering as the memories flooded through him, he rocked his son gently in his arms, and gradually his cries quietened and died as Rilian finally fell asleep. Alanna stopped singing, and silence, punctuated by Rilian's even breathing, fell over the room.

"You weren't able to see him because you were avoiding me," Alanna said after a long moment.

He winced. "I thought you blamed me," he told her heavily, "I thought you never wanted to see me again because I couldn't save her." The four hours he had just spent clutched tightly in Alanna's arms as he wept, as if he was all that was keeping her alive had disabused him of that notion, but he owed her an explanation. "And...you did not seek me out either. I thought..."

"Of course I didn't blame you," she said, looking truly shocked. "You couldn't have known. Nobody could have known he would-" she cut her self off. "I didn't blame you. And...I didn't seek you out because I thought _you_ blamed _me_," she whispered, eyes downcast. "For...for Aradhel, the wedding...naming Rilian. Everything. I thought you couldn't bear to look at me."

It was his turn to be shocked. "Alanna!" he said in a low, fierce whisper which would have been a yell if it was not for Rilian asleep in his arms. "Of course I did not-"

"I've never been worthy of you," she interrupted him. "I'm not regal, or poised enough- I wasn't raised for being a Queen. That's what got us into this mess, isn't it? Me choking on that ridiculous candied apple because I couldn't control my laughter?" She gave a derisive snort. "I almost lost our children once before when I tripped over that bow, but you saved me then. I was always so afraid my clumsiness would end up hurting them, and it did, even before we had conceived them!"

"Alanna, no," Legolas told her fervently, turning to face to her. "That _wasn't _your fault. You don't have the gift of foresight, how could you have known? I agreed to name him Rilian, too. I was the one who threw him bodily out of the palace and stripped him off his status as Lord. And I don't even regret that, because he struck you. I regret not keeping a closer eye on him, not recognizing his fury for what it was, not being there with you when-"

"You don't have the gift of foresight either," she interrupted him again. "It goes both ways, Legolas." He winced, knowing she had a point. "I can't _not_ blame myself for what happened. Any more than you can stop blaming yourself. In my head, I know I did nothing wrong, but in my heart..." she shook her head, and he nodded. He knew exactly how she felt. "But I don't blame _you_," she continued fervently. "You have to know that. I couldn't live with myself if you thought I did." _Because I need you. Valar, I need you, and I can't do this if you keep pushing me away. I can't do this alone._

"I do know that," he said, "Now...you know I don't blame you either, don't you? Because I couldn't l-l-live with myself if you thought that, either." The slight tremor in his voice surprised her. She looked down at her hands, unsure what to say, and saw that the imprints of his fingers still hadn't faded from her skin where he had clutched her hand so desperately.

And she realised that maybe she didn't need to worry about him pushing her away, because he needed her, too. He couldn't do this alone any more than she could. "Yes," she said softly. "I know."

...

Half an hour later, and they were both still sitting at the foot of the bed, their son lying between them, asleep. Neither had said a word, or moved to lie down, even though both were exhausted. There was still one thing left to say, and both knew if they didn't say it now, with all their were defences still stripped away by the four hours spent weeping together on the floor of the bedchamber, they most likely ever would.

And yet, neither had yet found the nerve to bring it up, because they both knew it would mean either the making or breaking of their marriage. The silence stretched on, and finally, Alanna sighed, knowing Legolas wouldn't be the one mention it first. She couldn't be sure what he wanted, but she knew he wouldn't want to _pressure_ her, break the promise he'd made her. If they were to talk about this, she would have to be the one to apologize.

"She doesn't have to be gone forever," she said softly, hesitantly. "In Valinor, she will be reborn to us, if..."

"If we stay together," Legolas finished for her. "I know." But they had agreed, _until we reach Valinor._ A marriage of convenience. Nothing more.

"Rilian will understand," she said hesitantly, as if exactly the same thought had occurred to her.

"It might be centuries before we're successful," he reminded her. "The ways of the Valar are mysterious...he would already have waited so long for you to sail to him. He might not want to wait longer."

Alanna was silent for a long moment. "I could sacrifice Rilian for Miriel, if I had to," she whispered at last, decision made. "But I couldn't...I couldn't sacrifice Miriel for anything."

His eyes blurred from sheer relief. "Thank you," he whispered. Bad enough to see Miriel die, to bury her and mourn her and not be able to hold her again for centuries to come...but to _never_ hold her, never hear her laugh, never comb his hands through her hair, for her to really be _gone_ as Elves were never meant to be..._that_ would have destroyed him more surely than anything else he had been through in this lifetime.

Alanna's eyes were teary, fearful at the thought that she might lose her lover, that she might, after everything, end up alone and broken-hearted without her happy ending in Valinor. The thought filled her with dread, even though she knew without doubt that Miriel would be worth it. Legolas reached for her hand, and when she met his gaze she saw so much understanding, so much empathy in his eyes that it made her breath catch.

"No matter what happens you'll never be alone," he said, voice low. "Even if Rilian doesn't understand, even if he's stupid enough not to wait...you'll always have me. Until eternity fades, Alanna. I swear it."

She grasped his hand fiercely, fear falling away. With him by her side, she could face anything. "You'll always have me, too," she told him, knowing he needed to hear it, too. Knowing she needed to say it. The grounds their marriage had stood on all these months had just shifted, changed into something strange and unfamiliar...and unbreakable. She met his eyes, unwavering. "Until eternity fades."

...

END.

Stay tuned for the epilogue...I don't consider this quite done yet. Loose ends, mainly concerning Rilian and the still to be realized 'romantic' part of their relationship, are still left to be tied.

Oh, and I'm really sorry I didn't send review replies for the last chappie. Moving houses and a malfunctioning internet connection made me totally forget and then when I remembered it was really late so I thought I'd just apologize and thank you all for your reviews the next time I updated. I do appreciate all your reviews, and will be sorry next chapter to be seeing the last of some of you- especially the old faithful ones- as this story has been going on for so many years that I kind of started thinking of you guys as old friends, LOL. Not to mention there were so few of you (Legomances being so unpopular), that I was very grateful for every review I got.

I'm sorry to say you may not get review replies this time either, because my net is down again. (rolls eyes) I'm back in Delhi, but am being forced to post this from a cyber cafe. The internet cafe in my college blocks out on grounds that it has pornographic content...so I can read reviews but can't reply to them. I will however make sure to reply to the final set of reviews for the epilogue.

I just realized something about this fic...when I first started writing it, it wasn't intended to be a Legomance. It's there in all my author's notes at the beginning (I'm too lazy to go back and change them) where I very emphatically stated that the story wasn't a romance. I wanted it to be a 'different' arranged marriage fic with the characters discovering a deep friendship but never really falling in love. But when I got further and further in the story, the more I thought these two belonged together. So I decided to go the cliché way after all.

But I kept any hint of physical attraction of these characters to each other at a minimum. I wanted to stay as true as possible to the original idea behind this, and also, most of the story was in Legolas's point of view, and he would never admit it even to himself if he was physically attracted to Alanna, LOL. Alanna's still hung up on Rilian, so she wouldn't admit to being attracted to Legolas either. But I changed the genre of the story from angst to romance because I realized that with where it was heading it was, indeed, a romance.

Anyway, enough with the long reflections on my own fic...please review and tell me what you think!


	36. Epilogue

Title: Until We Reach Valinor

Chapter 36: Epilogue

...

Two thousand years. Far longer than either of them had ever intended to stay. Legolas stared at the inky blackness of the sea as a lifetime's worth of memories played before his eyes. A lifetime, but it had gone by so fast...

They had talked of sailing for the first time when their son had turned of age. It hadn't been much of a discussion- they'd both been completely in accord about not wanting to force a marriage of convenience onto Rilian. He had been little more than a child. So they'd decided to wait until he fell in love and got married, even if that took centuries. All Legolas had felt was relief. Sailing would bring the imminent parting with Alanna ever closer, and the idea of not seeing her every day and sharing a bed with her every night made his gut clench every time he thought about it.

And then, eventually, their son _had_ met someone. They'd talked of sailing again, in the days after his wedding. Rilian had been so happy, so much in love, that neither of them had been able to bring themselves to sail, to force upon their newly-wed son the burdens of running a kingdom.

"Let him be happy," Alanna had said. "We can wait."

"And what of Rilian?" Legolas had asked cautiously.

A pause. "I can wait," she had said.

And Legolas had felt that profound relief again, and thought he saw a shadow of it in her eyes, too. But of course, neither of them acknowledged it. There were some things that, even after these many years, they still couldn't say to each other. So they had waited- there had always been excuses to wait a little while longer- until the sea-longing had finally taken Legolas. He had fought it, tooth and nail; tried to hide it from her, but of course she had noticed. And then there had been no choice; they had sailed at once.

He looked down at his hand, at the silver wedding band he had never once taken off since their wedding, and wondered what it would feel like to not be wearing it. Hesitating a moment, he gently slid it off his ring finger, squeezing it tightly in his right hand as he let his left drop to his side. It felt awful. Not lighter, but its absence on his finger felt _wrong._ Unable to stand it beyond a few seconds, he quickly slid it back onto his finger.

"Couldn't sleep?"

He jumped a little at the sound of Alanna's voice behind him. "No," he said, turning to face her. "Why are _you_ awake?"

For just a moment, her eyes flickered to his left hand before rising to meet his again. "You weren't there," she said simply, coming to stand next to him.

He winced, feeling bad for having left the room. He knew she was unable to sleep well out of his presence since Miriel had died, even after all these years. He remembered the first time he had had to leave her presence for an extended period of time, for a diplomatic trip to Rivendell to see Elladan and Elrohir. It had been more than four years since Miriel had died. He had returned a month later to find her looking completely exhausted with bruise-like circles under her eyes. Although she had since gotten better, as the years went by, she was still always able to sense it when he wasn't in the room.

"I spoke to one of the sailors," he said, throat suddenly very tight. "We'll be reaching tomorrow, late morning."

"That soon?" Her voice was a whisper. There were hints of light already on the wave-tossed horizon.

"The winds and tides were in our favour," he said unnecessarily, swallowing.

She shifted a little, hesitated, and then suddenly stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him. "In case you ever wondered," she said, very low. "I stand by what we agreed on, about Miriel." He stilled; neither of them had spoken of that, ever, since that night. And then, reflexively, he hugged her back even more tightly, because he had never wondered, not even for a second.

Miriel's death had hit them both so hard...even with his son to raise and Alanna's steady presence by his side there had been times when Legolas had been so _devastated_ by the loss that the only thing which kept him going was the knowledge that it would not be permanent. He knew it was the same with Alanna. The morning sun glinted in her hair, and he was reminded of their wedding night, and every night since, when the candlelight in her hair had taken his breath away.

"In case _you_ ever wondered," he said roughly, "Rilian won't change anything between us. You'll always be..." "I know," she said, drawing a little away from him, meeting his eyes. "For me, too."

Gently, he brought his lips to her forehead, and remembered a conversation from an age ago...

_"Is there anything you would like me to do, or not do?"_

_"Just don't kiss me. Anywhere."_

Because kissing her would have been saying he was in love with her. It would have been encroaching on the one thing she could still save for the man she really loved, Rilian.

He never had kissed her, had respected that boundary between them because he had known how hard it had been for her to sleep with him that first time. When he had married her, he had never thought even for a second that he would ever want to cross that boundary; but after Miriel their friendship had changed and deepened. And yet, he would never have seen it, if it hadn't been for Aragorn.

_"There's no way I can change your mind, convince you to stay-" Legolas said desperately._

_"No," Aragorn's face was wrinkled with age, his once dark hair was almost completely white, but his eyes were still as firm and as discerning as ever. "It is my time, mellonamin._

_"Let me at least accompany you," Legolas said with tears in his eyes, "To Gondor, let me be at your side when you-"_

_"No," Aragorn said. "I came here to say goodbye, to you and to Alanna and to the school. I don't want you to watch me die."_

_"Estel-" His voice broke, the tears falling._

_Aragorn engulfed him in a tight hug, the strength in his arms not diminished by age. "Hush, _mellonamin. _It is my time. We always knew this was coming." His eyes grew distant as he remembered their long years of friendship. "There were times when I was sure you would sail after my passing."_

_Legolas nodded, throat tight. "There were times I was, too."_

_"I'm glad you have Alanna," Aragorn said with sudden fierceness. "I never thought you'd fall in love or get married in my lifetime, but I'm glad you did. I'm glad you have her to get you through my passing."_

_Legolas pulled away from his friend, the words bringing a pang to his heart. "I'm not in love with Alanna," he said. "I told you of the nature of our agreement when we first married. She...became more to me than I ever thought she would. But our agreement remains the same, Aragorn. Her heart lies elsewhere."_

_ Aragorn actually scoffed at him. "You're a fool if you really believe that," he said. "And you're an even bigger fool if you think you aren't in love with her, although that doesn't surprise me much. It _would_ be like you to fall in love without realizing it yourself."_

_"Aragorn, I'm not-" Legolas began heatedly, but Aragorn interrupted him again._

_"Don't be ridiculous, Legolas," he said, more seriously, "I _know_ you, remember? I know you better than anyone. I've seen you with her; I was there when you thought she was dying after giving both to Miriel." Even now, these many years later, the memory made him flinch. Aragorn's eyes, of course, never missed anything. _

_"That first year after you married her," he continued knowingly, "You laughed more than you had in years. She was good for you- she _is_ good for you. You trusted her to teach the children, to mentor then, when you knew almost nothing about her. When Miriel died, not even I was able to get through to you...but she did. After all you've been through together-" _

_"That doesn't mean I'm in love with her," he interrupted. "I'm not." _

_"If you could go back and change things, would you choose not to marry her?" Aragorn asked._

_"That's a moot point," Legolas protested, "Ivana, my father-" _

_"Never mind them. Think only of yourself for once. If you could, without hurting anyone else, would you change things?"_

_A beat._

_"Of course not," Legolas said hoarsely. "She's the best thing that ever happened to me. The best..." he paused, searching for a word that didn't sound inadequate, but couldn't find one, "... _friend_ I'll ever have. I never denied that. But that doesn't mean I'm in love with her."_

_Aragorn shook his head, exasperated by his stubboness. "Can you see yourself married to anyone else, sharing anyone else's bed, in the future? Can you see anyone but her as your wife?"_

_"Why are you going on about this?" Legolas asked, surprised at the edge of desperation in his own voice, "Can't you just-?"_

_"Answer the question Legolas," Aragorn said firmly. "If you let her go without a fight, it'll be your own stupidity, but it won't be without knowing how you feel about her. I will _not_ have you letting her walk away from you without realizing what you're losing."_

_"No," Legolas said after a pause. "No, I can't see myself being married to anyone else." Aragorn started to smile, and Legolas hastened to add, "But then, I never would have been married in the first place if it hadn't been for _ada_ and Ivana. You told me not to think about them, but they are the reason I married her, Aragorn. Just like Rilian and her mother's dying wish were the reasons Alanna married me. I can't...push all that aside." He inhaled deeply. "I don't see myself with anyone else...how can I? After everything we've been through..." _

_They had gone from awkwardness to a tentative friendship. Walks around the fringes of the forest- they never walked in gardens because it reminded them too much of Miriel's death- and mealtimes spent in companionable silence. They had raised one child together, mourned one child together. Valar, _so much_... They had wept in each other's arms, watched friends fade away and sail. They had run a school together; parenting countless children and watching them leave year after year. _So much.

_"And you still say you're not in love with her?" he heard Aragorn say from a great distance. _

_"I can't be," he said, feeling unspeakably lost. _

_Aragorn sighed. "Have you ever wanted her?" he asked gently._

"What?!" _Legolas stared at his friend in shock and outrage, "How can you even-?"_

_"Forget for a moment that I don't have the right to ask you that," Aragorn interrupted. "You don't even have to answer me...just think about it for a moment. Honestly."_

_He wanted to deny it like he had done so often but he couldn't lie to himself anymore. He shared a bed with her. They slept on opposite ends, but sometimes he woke to find her pressed against him, strands of her tinted hair spilling over his face, glinting in the morning sunlight, and he couldn't _help_ wanting her. The desire always came with guilt and shame, and he shoved it away and refused to think about it, denied it even to himself. His darkest secret...but he couldn't hide it anymore._

_Aragorn's hand on his arm startled him. "You love her," he said, knowingly. _

_He closed his eyes. "I don't have the right."_

_"Of course you do," Aragorn said fiercely. "She's your _wife."

_"She's Rilian's."_

_"She _was_," Aragorn said. "But that was a long time ago. Much has changed since then." _

_"I won't fight for her," Legolas said after a long moment. "I'm not lowering myself to that, or risking our friendship."_

_Aragorn nodded, unsurprised. "As long as you don't fight yourself," he said. "That's all I ask. Now you know how you feel about her...when she approaches you, you won't shy away."_

Knowing how he felt about her had changed surprisingly little. Aragorn passed away soon after that, and Arwen followed soon after. He and Alanna had both been devastated by the loss. _Love_ was the farthest thing from his mind. She was there for him as she had always been, and he leaned on her unconditionally, as he always had. His walls had crumbled that night they had wept together for their daughter. He had no pride, no reservations left when it came to her. It was more than he'd ever had from anyone in his life, more than he'd ever _hoped_ to have. What was mere physical attraction compared to that?

But now, now it was all coming to an end. Not their friendship, never that; but their life together was coming to an end. And he had never told her how he had felt about her. The one thing he had never been able to confide in her. He'd never been very good with words anyway, but the weight of never being able to say it, of never having the _right _to say it, had grown heavier over the years. And now, hours away from reaching Valinor he couldn't leave it unsaid, so he let his lips linger on her forehead.

She didn't pull away.

...

Hours later, they stood hand in hand as the boat drew towards a pearly white beach. The water surrounding the island was the most still and clear Legolas had ever seen. An expanse of green stretched out behind the beach. But beautiful as Valinor was, Legolas's eyes were focused on the array of people dotting the shore, clearly there to welcome them. Legolas's heart swelled with joy as he saw the unmistakable profile of his father standing beside a dark-haired woman. Ivana stood beside them and- his eyes widened in surprise- was that _Elano_ standing beside her with his arm around her waist and that contented expression on his face?

"Do you think they're-?" Alanna asked breathlessly, eyes alight with excitement.

"I don't know," Legolas said, equally surprised and overjoyed.

Elano had sailed a year after Miriel's death. He hadn't faded, and for that Legolas was grateful- he wouldn't have been able to stand losing the Elf as well. But as the months pass he had seen how deeply unhappy Elano was, and had realized the only reason he was still in Greenwood was for his sake. So he had told Elano to sail and be with his family. He had fought hard for Elano in the past, but losing Miriel had destroyed his chances at happiness on Middle Earth, so Legolas had let him go in hope that he would find it in Valinor. Which, it seemed, he had.

Half an hour later they were stepping ashore and Legolas took Alanna's arm and instinctively steadied her as she tripped over the dock, still as clumsy as ever. After these many years he rarely thought about it, but today he was extremely aware of her. With quiet regret he let go of her arm and strode towards his father, his face breaking into a smile and he embraced the older Elf tightly.

"Welcome, _ion nin_," Thranduil said warmly, returning the hug with equal fierceness, "I've missed you. You look well."

"As do you," Legolas returned as he pulled away, and it was true. His father looked far happier than Legolas had ever seen him on Valinor.

"This is Gilraen," said Thranduil, indicating the woman beside him. For some reason, he seemed somewhat nervous, "My...my wife."

For a moment, Legolas felt shock; though he probably should have been prepared for it, he hadn't expected to come to Valinor and find Thranduil married to his first wife. But then years of diplomatic training in court kicked in, and he bowed. "It's a pleasure to meet you," he said a little too formally, but the effect was softened by a genuine smile. If she was the reason Thranduil was happy, he could not wait to get to know her.

She looked relieved, taking his hand, "Likewise. I've heard a great deal about you."

"Legolas."

He turned, and his breath caught. _Nana._

He had only ever seen portraits of her, and even in those she had been beautiful. It was from Caladel from whom he had got his lithe, graceful figure, though his face was his father's. He had often wondered if the portraits did her justice, and now he had his answer. She was nothing short of stunning.

"You- you look-" Her voice broke, and suddenly he felt terribly awkward.

"I..." He trailed off helplessly. This wasn't how he had envisioned this reunion.

"I'm sorry," she said shakily. "I should have been there, I should have fought. I'm sorry-"

His heart contracted as he realized that she was apologizing for dying, and before he knew what he was doing his arms were around her. "Don't," he said thickly. "It's alright."

They held each other for a moment, and then he thought of Alanna. She, too, would be reuniting with parents she had never met. His eyes sought her out, and he saw her tearfully hugging her father some distance away. She looked rather overwhelmed, like he himself felt. He wanted to go to her, but Ivana laid a hand on his shoulder.

Her eyes sparkled, and her face was softer than he remembered it being. "Hello, _sir,"_ she said, grinning.

"Ivana," he said, laughing. He had often felt guilty because of everything he had cost her, but now, seeing her so happy, he realized the time for that was past. "Still as incorrigible as ever, I see."

She took both his hands in hers. "Thank you," she said earnestly, "I know why you married so suddenly; even if _ada_ said you fell in love, I'm not stupid, and I know you. _Thank you._ You gave me back my family."

"Don't be ridiculous, Ivana," he said, smiling warmly at her. "You have nothing for which to thank me."

"Sir," came Elano's voice from somewhere on his right, and he turned towards him, smiling even wider still as he saw the wedding band on the Elf's left hand, matching the one on Ivana's.

"It gladdens me that you have found happiness at last," he whispered fiercely, pulling the Elf who had been as a son to him into a tight hug. "How long have you been..?"

"Two centuries, now," he said, laughing self-consciously. "I never thought I would have a chance with her, even here, but Valinor healed us both, and apparently she felt the same way about me. And now here we are."

"Good," Legolas said, looking at the love in his eyes, in both their eyes, and feeling a slight pang. "That's wonderful. I'm so happy for you, for both of you."

"How is Celin?" Elano asked.

"Well," Legolas said, smiling. "He's married now, if you can believe it. To Linnor, of all people. We left the school in their care; hopefully the children haven't burnt it down yet..."

There were more greetings after that; a whirlwind of activity and laughter during which he lost track of Alanna. Finally, when his friends began to disperse, he spied her standing with her parents. He had yet to meet them- his in-laws. Suddenly, ridiculously, he felt nervous. As he walks towards them he noted distractedly that Alanna had received her features from her father, even her distinctive hair.

"Naneth, ada," he said uncertainly as he came to a stop before them.

Keldarion took his hand and shook it. _"Ion nin,"_ he said formally, almost stiffly, but his eyes were kind. That didn't make Legolas feel any less awkward, though, and he could see that Alanna was tense as well.

It was his mother-in-law, Alanna, who put him at ease. She smiled, warm, radiant and familiar, as if she had known him for years- and he saw _his_ Alanna in that smile and was suddenly reminded of their first meeting when she had been bright and chirpy and made him feel hopelessly out of his depth. "We have heard much about you, and would thank you for being such a good husband to our daughter," his mother-in-law said warmly.

Legolas's eyebrows shot up- had Alanna met her mother and father for the first time in her life and spent the time talking about _him?_ But she caught his eyes, shook her head imperceptibly, and her mother continued, "Yours is a love that everyone from Greenwood has spoken of as a kind of fairytale. We are glad you both found such happiness in spite of the loss you suffered."

_What?! _Legolas's mind was reeling, and he exchanged a wide-eyed glance with Alanna. A fairytale romance? _Them?_ For the first time, he scanned the years of their marriage with the eyes of an outsider...and realized abruptly that it made sense. He remembered, now, the shockwaves that had spread through Greenwood when he had stripped Aradhel of his Lord status and thrown him out of the wedding hall all those years ago in defence of Alanna. His fury had been so uncharacteristic that it was small wonder it caused speculation about their relationship, which people had thought of until then as simply a marriage of convenience. And then, less than a year after their wedding Alanna had given birth- it was very soon for Elves; most waited centuries.

After Miriel's death their closeness, their friendship, had been cemented, had become a commonplace at the court. In spite of the loss they had found it in them to be happy where most couples would have faded or drifted away. Small wonder then that people saw it as a wonderful romance.

"It is an honour to meet you both," he told her parents. What would they say, what would _everyone_ say when they dissolved their marriage if they thought it was such a great love?

They exchanged some more small talk until Keldarion and Alanna excused themselves, with promises to meet them the next day for breakfast. By this point almost everyone had dispersed. Only Thranduil, Gilraen, Caladel, Ivana and Elano remained.

"We should show you to your dwelling so you can refresh yourselves after your journey," said Thranduil, "You must both be exhausted."

"No, that's alright, _ada_," Legolas said quickly, "You don't need to do that. We'll walk there ourselves, if you could just give us the directions."

Thranduil frowned, clearly wondering at this sudden desire to be alone with Alanna when they had only just arrived, but Legolas had another reason for his actions. Rilian had not been at the beach, and he could tell Alanna was on edge. She would not make a very good impression on Thranduil, Caladel or Gilraen in this state, and he himself was too tense to converse with any of them, especially his mother and step-mother.

"We wish to explore a little, and see the beauty of Valinor," he said. "We can meet later for dinner."

His father still looked slightly perplexed, but let it pass. He gave him the directions to their dwelling and then the party left together.

When it was only Legolas and Alanna standing on the beach, he tried to reassure her, "Don't worry. Perhaps he didn't want to make a scene on the beach...he'll approach you soon."

She gave him an unreadable look and continued down the path without a word. Frowning in concern, he hurried after her, knowing that she would probably take a wrong turn if he didn't keep track of her.

"Alanna-" He broke off as she stopped short

"Rilian..." she whispered, her face draining of colour. Her eyes were fixed on an Elf who had clearly been waiting for them around the corner.

"Hello, Alanna," Rilian said, smiling tremulously. There was a moment of silence, and then she launched herself into his arms.

Legolas felt a pang, wishing he was somewhere else, but if he left now it would have drawn attention to himself. Besides, this conversation concerned him as well. He looked at the Elf in front of him, who was embracing Alanna, head resting on her shoulder, eyes closed, and felt a stab of envy mingled with sorrow and loss.

_Stop that, he told himself. Be happy for her. He waited for her, in spite of everything, and clearly he loves her. He'll wait for her a little longer if he has to, until we can conceive Miriel. And then Alanna can finally be happy._

Valar, but the Elf was handsome, he couldn't help thinking with a pang of dismay. A curtain of shiny black hair framed a smooth, chiselled face. He was tall, unusually so, and his eyes were a distinctive grey-green. He looked just like one of the heroes from the romances Alanna loved so much. In fact, he remembered with a wince that some of her own poems featured Elves that fit his description.

The two pulled apart at last. Alanna's cheeks were wet.

"You look wonderful," Rilian said softly. "Far better than the last time I saw you."

She choked out a laugh. "So...so do you. Then again, you were bleeding to death in my arms at the time."

His face softened. "Alanna, I'm sorry I died and left you. I know how much it must have hurt you. But I'm glad...so glad, you managed to move on."

_What?_

Alanna, too, went stiff with shock. "Rilian, I-"

"Don't, Alanna. Let me finish. I was furious when I heard of your marriage, I won't lie. I had waited for centuries for you to sail to me, but you never came and I never heard of you from anyone. And then, the next thing I heard was that you had become the Queen of Greenwood."

"Rilian-"

"Let me finish. I was hurt, and angry, and I didn't think I'd ever be able to forgive you. I heard that you had named your son after me, and it was like a slap in my face. And then I heard of the death of your daughter, and I wept for you, even though I hated you at the same time, because I remembered how much you wanted to be a mother. But as the years went by, there were so many more tidings of your happiness, of your _great love_, that I finally had to accept you had moved on, that marrying Legolas of Greenwood wasn't something you were forced into. And that hurt worst of all."

Her eyes were wide and pained. "I-"

He interrupted her again. "But...since you _had_ moved on, I had to stop waiting for you. I started thinking about our relationship, remembering much you always looked up to me, how _grateful_ you always were to me." His eyes became shamed. "I remembered how I took advantage of that sometimes, and said some things I should not have."

_Yes, you did_, Legolas wanted to say. _You destroyed her self-confidence, never intending to, but you did. And it took me years to build it back up again._ But of course, he kept his mouth shut, because all that was in the past.

"And I realized that's not how _love_ should be," Rilian continued. "We should have been on an equal footing, but we never were."

"You made me who I am," she said softly. "Of course I always looked up to you. That's why I named my son after you."

"I know," he said. "And I'm glad you moved on. I'm glad, because it let me move on, too."

Legolas gasped quietly in shock, his eyes flying to Rilian's left hand at the same moment Alanna's did. How had neither of them noticed it before?

"You're...?" Her eyes were wide with shock.

"Married," he said. "For the last five centuries. And happier than I ever thought I could be." He smiled down at her. "You should meet her some time. You both are very little alike, but something tells me you'd get along." He glanced at Legolas for the first time. "I, too, would like to get to know the Elf who stole your heart and gave you such great happiness."

"Someday," she managed to say, and he smiled again, and he reached up to cup her face, his expression unspeakably tender.

Then he walked away, leaving her standing there, face blank and dazed.

Legolas moved forward hesitantly. "Alanna, are you...?"

"He didn't wait for me," she said, sounding very strange. "He didn't wait."

"I'm so sorry," he said, feeling helpless. He reached forward and gripped her shoulders, trying to read her expression; her face was so blank.

"He didn't wait," she whispered again. "He didn't wait-" She stared at him unseeingly, and then her eyes focussed on him and she closed the distance between them and kissed him, hard on the lips. For a moment he was too shocked to respond, and then he was kissing her back, feverishly, years of longing pouring out of him as their tongues duelled and their surroundings vanished and it was just them, just Legolas and Alanna.

They finally pulled apart for breath, and then sanity returned. "Alanna, what...?" he asked, completely at a loss.

There were tears in her eyes, dripping slowly down her face, and her face was alight with joy and relief. "He didn't wait," she said shakily, "Thank the Valar, he didn't wait. I'm free."

He stood there, actually gaping at her in shock and sheer disbelief, and she smiled. "I love you, you dolt," she said. "I've loved you for centuries."

"But Rilian...you were so happy to see him..."

"He was the first person I ever loved, the first person who ever love me, and he died in my arms," she said. "Of _course_ I was happy to see him. He'll always mean a great deal to me, Legolas."

"Your poems," he said. "Your poems, the heroes in them, they all look just like him."

"My _early_ poems," she corrected gently, "I never showed you the later ones, because the heroes in the later ones look like _you."_

"But you never said anything," he whispered, still stunned, unable to believe it, "You never even gave me a sign..."

"Of course I didn't," she said regretfully. "I had a duty, an obligation, to Rilian. If he'd actually waited, I'd have gone to him, Legolas. You know that."

Yes, he knew. And he didn't resent her for it. As he had told Aragorn so many years ago, the foundations of their marriage was the strong sense of duty they shared, the obligations they had to other people and could never put aside because of who they were. Except that now, now there were no more obligations. Rilian had no claim on her, anymore...

But could she really love him? It was hard, so hard to believe, after so many years of believing that she would always love someone else. But the way she was looking at him, that sheer _intensity_ of feeling... Joy swelled in his gust, and he felt his own eyes sting with the intensity of the emotion. He reached out and grasped her hands tightly in his.

She smiled a little at the look on his face. "You really are a dolt," she said affectionately, "Here you were trying to reassure me when he wasn't at the beach, and there I was tense for an entirely different reason, because I was hoping...hoping against hope that he hadn't waited."

He absorbed this for a moment and then frowned suddenly as a thought struck him. "But I never gave you any signs, either. I never told you I loved you..."

"You didn't have to," she said. "Thankfully, I'm not quite as obtuse as you are, or we wouldn't even be having this conversation." She smiled a little, showing him that she was only teasing, "I began to suspect how you felt when you tried to hide the sea-longing from me. And then this morning...you may not have said it in words, Legolas, but I _know_ what that kiss on my forehead meant."

So she _had_ remembered that conversation. He stood there for a moment, realisation washing over him once again. She really did love him. And now...at long last, he had the right to love her back. He moved forward and kissed her, sweet and leisurely this time, as though they had all the time in the world.

...

END.

Phew, that was a long chapter...

I can't believe this story is finally over. I've been writing it since 2005! It's going to be so weird not to have it somewhere in the back of my mind. I never thought I'd spend this long on this story when I first started writing it, but it was surprisingly hard to write. Inspiration hit very sporadically, and I've been plagued by writer's block right from the start, though this is also a story whose ending has been planned since 2006 so you'd think I'd have been able to get a move on. I'm very thankful to those readers who stuck by me despite the insanely long gaps between updates.

I also, without ever intending to, managed to finish this right on Diwali, right after midnight if you can believe that! So to those who celebrate it (and to those who don't), I wish you a very Happy Diwali! :D

This is a very bittersweet moment for me, because this is probably the last LOTR fanfic I'm ever going to write. I've spent my entire time on this site writing LOTR fanfic; even when I began writing in other fandoms I still always had some LOTR fanfic in progress. But now I want to branch out into other fandoms. Frankly, I don't think my writing style or the kind of plots I'm good at is suited to LOTR.

My language is a little too modern, and though I've managed to stop making bloomers like using the word 'okay', I just don't have the knack for the older style of English like lindahoyland does, for instance. (You're really great at that, by the way). It just doesn't feel natural to me, and I feel constricted by it. And plot, too- this whole plot hinges on the idea that Legolas and Alanna CAN in fact dissolve their marriage, but I seriously doubt there was anything approaching divorce among Elves or Men in Middle Earth. I also think I make my Elves a little too human, and I'm not sure how to fix that.

Anyway, for these reasons, I'm going to stop writing LOTR fanfic and try my hand at Supernatural and Harry Potter. And of course I have to finish my 'Rooftop' series in the Batman fandom... I urge you all to please keep reading whatever I write in these fandoms, but obviously, you may not be into them so this will be a goodbye to some of you.

I love you all, and thank you again for your support!


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